And so, it began
by FlorLola
Summary: A meet by chance. A smile, a wink, a whisper. A stolen kiss. Shy hands sneaking under skirts, caressing. Haunting memories. What starts as an attempt to find themselves soon turns into something else, as love, fate and destiny caught up with them.
1. Chapter 1

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

Rated M for a good reason, and this is a Haruka/Michiru story. Don't say I didn't warn you, 'cause I just did.

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><p><strong>1<strong>

In the small space in between the isles, with her back pressed against the bookshelves, a young girl sat on the wooden floor by herself. One leg bent under her, the other bent up and supporting the arm which in return was supporting her chin, she tried to get as comfortable as humanly possible as her eyes scanned the printed pages in front of her green eyes. Blonde, shoulder length hair tied up in a messy, improvised bun with a pencil in an attempt to keep the wild strands off her eyes.

Low rise, faded blue bootcut jeans were covering her seemingly endless legs; a frayed slit over the right knee, and black, three inches high heel boots on her feet. The white scoopneck tanktop with a racerback hugged her form perfectly, leaving a rather nice view of her cleavage, accentuated by the sunglasses hanging from it, to whoever walked passed her. Next to her, a granite colored jacket rested carelessly over the herb green cross-body bag.

But the small space or the shelves against her back did not bother her. Neither did the reigning silence of the public library. That was actually a nice, welcoming silence, when considering the attention she needed to pay to her current activity. What did bother her though, constantly and to no ends, were the blonde locks that kept on falling into her face, no matter how many times she pushed them off. There was only so much one simple pencil could hold, and even if she did have a proper hairband to tie it up, that damned thing she called her hair would always find a way to rebel against her. And as she blew off yet another blonde lock off her line of vision, small, soft hairs tickling her nose in the most unnerving, annoying way, she started to consider, not for the first time, putting herself through a Sidney O'Connor phase and just shave the damned thing off.

Or maybe something less dramatic. Like cutting it. All of it.

A sided smirk found its way to her lips then, and she shook her head lightly.

Not that she found Freud amusing at all. The guy had such a way with words, most of which she had heard of and had a vague idea of what they meant but was not particularly familiar with- psychoanalysis was not something she was that much interested in-, the entire thing was confusing her even more. Or maybe it wasn't her, and it was more of a therapists' thing; the guy had been a pioneer in the area, after all. It wasn't so hard to understand why most therapists' now a day had a tendency to be confusing, talking in circles and riddles -or just talking a lot- but never really saying anything useful.

Not to her, at least.

She went to one of those a few years back, right after her parents died. Her uncle and legal guardian had thought it would do her good, helping her with her grieve, seeing as a thirteen year old girl was obviously unable to deal with such loss by herself.

Obviously, her uncle was not only clueless as to what being a teenage girl meant -not that she could really blame him for that-, but also didn't really know her at all.

She was not keen on sharing her thoughts and feelings that easily, least of all to complete strangers, and she most certainly didn't appreciate some old man wanting to force his way into her head. Still, she had been sent there. And after almost two months of weekly sessions, with one stubborn girl not saying more than a few words to the old, bald, fat man sitting in front of her, studying her from over the edge of his thin glasses resting over his large nose, asking her how she felt about things such as school and friends and life in general, only to get the same dry, sober, simple 'fine' as an answer, the old fat man decided to give up on her. Saying something about how she definitively had an attitude, but he couldn't really reach her.

Of course he couldn't reach her. She never let him. And those weekly sessions had only proven to be fruitless to the old man, and quite pointless and boring for her. Yes, she had cried her parents' death. Alone, in the privacy of her room. She had her own way of grieving; she certainly didn't need some therapist to tell her how to deal with it.

And there truly wasn't any other half valid reason for her to be sent there. Even after her parents past away, after moving in with her uncle and with her family life completely changed, she had still managed to keep a somewhat normal life. Straight A student, captain of the running team at her school -the youngest one ever, at that-, and an excellent piano player.

The only thing she did quit was gymnastic, and her uncle had seen in that a sign of her drifting away and shutting herself off. And though that was not particularly untrue, since she did find people trying to force their way into her life just because highly annoying, and she certainly didn't appreciate or care for shallow relationships of any kind and nature, that was not the reason behind her decision to quit the team. She had simply been tired of jumping around, training day in and day out, getting nothing out of it but a nice medal or a trophy to decorate shelves and then just stay there, gathering dust. The original rush that had led her into gymnastics in the first place was long gone, and she didn't find it thrilling nor exciting anymore.

She knew it was probably a sign of arrogance on her part, but she honestly didn't think it was humanly possible to get any better or any more flexible than she already was, unless she somehow found some sort of super power that would allow her body to turn and twist like a rubber band. She was just as good as any other athlete going for the gold medal at the Olympics; she simply didn't feel passionate enough to go ahead and get it.

And then of course there was the fact that at the tender age of thirteen, her body had already reached its current five feet nine inches height, deciding to grow up on her seemingly overnight. Her life has never been exactly normal, so of course Mother Nature wouldn't give her a break; she had gone from looking like an every day, average thirteen year old pre-teenager, to resembling a fully developed young lady at least two years older than her actual age.

Her height, her looks, her taste in music, her cultured mind, and being far from resembling any other boy crazy under hormonal revolution teenager her age usually led people to assume she was much older. And many were surprised to find that not only was she still in high school, but she was only fifteen years old.

The sudden growth her body went into and the slowly but steadily growing feeling of boredom had been her main reasons to quite gymnastics and scratch it off her extracurricular activities. Working the uneven bars and being suspended in nothing but air while worrying about accidentally flashing herself, or in pain because of an uncomfortably tight bra that would prevent such accident would also restrict her air supply, was hardly a good thing. The last thing she wanted was to have an accident that could not only be potentially and highly embarrassing, but also send her straight to the floor and then rushing to a hospital with a sprained ankle. Or worse.

Not that she was particularly afraid of getting hurt. She was strong enough, and proud enough to take in the pain and suck it up. But she wasn't stupid; she knew worrying about her breasts and whether or not her training outfit offered proper support and coverage was not exactly the right thing to be worrying about when flipping around.

She had mastered both the uneven bars and floor, and she found the volt and the balance beam kind of boring -not that she wasn't good at those as well. And reaching such high level at such young age only added to her general boredom towards gymnastic, along with the lack of any real friends among her teammates that would have made her at least consider staying. Most would see in the tall, agile blonde nothing but competition, and except maybe for a challenge or two, she had rarely have much of an exchange with her teammates.

With no real friends in there and getting bored fast, she had simply wanted to try out something new. Something with a bit more rush to it. And after quitting gymnastics, she had tried every single sport, from martial arts to basketball, soccer, and baseball, and pretty much any other sport that she could think of. And though she was good in all, excelling in most, nothing seemed to fit her spirit. That was, until she finally got to high school, and the good name and reputation of the running team got her attention.

Remembering how much she used to love running around as a kid, thinking that, if she put her whole heart into it, she could run like the wind, letting it carry her, she made up her mind and give it a shot to the running tracks. She actually liked being a part of the team, and though she had long ago grew out of her childhood fantasies, she could still feel like being carried away by the wild element every single time she was out there running.

And that was the one and only reason why she had stated on the team for this long. It made her feel alive. With her legs moving fast, carrying her fast and far, and the wind caressing her every pore. There was a certain magic to it; to be able to run free and wild.

Untamed, just like the wind.

But these were her reasons, and it was her life, and she honestly didn't understand why she should explain herself to some shrink that thought asking stupid questions would somehow help her in the process of becoming an adult. She was, always had been and always will be a rather private person; she chose very carefully who to share her thoughts with, and that bald, fat old man was just not among those few.

Since when wanting to be left alone equaled to needing therapy, anyway?

_How ironic_, she thought to herself, as yet another smirk made it to her lips when taken under consideration the kind of readying she was doing on that exact moment. Of course, her readying 'The interpretation of dreams' had nothing to do with her losing her parents or with the pains and tribulations of growing up. But still, the irony didn't escape her.

The sound of soft steps, high heels meeting the wooden floor and invading the isle she had claimed to herself forced her out of her own thoughts, and she looked up just in time to see a girl walking in.

She was able to catch a glimpse of deep blue eyes before the girl turned her back to her. One long, slender finger gently tracing the wooden shelf, as she read the titles of the books. Curly, aquamarine hair tied up in a high, carefully messy looking bun that gave way to waving locks that cascaded freely down the girl's back and shoulders.

A blue halter top tee gently kissing the girl's body all the way down to her round hips. Low rise, side tab jean shorts showed off a pair of perfectly shaped, pearly white legs, ending with deep blue four inches high heeled pumps on her small feet. A light gray cotton wrap was hanging from the brown chamois handbag resting on the girl's shoulder, as she held a small card in one hand, taping one finger against the shelves with the other.

The blonde frowned. Something about the girl felt familiar…

She shook her head, clearing her mind and getting back to her reading, dismissing the thought. She would most certainly remember such unique hair color.

"Damn!" the soft, almost melodic whisper made her look up again, as the aquamarine haired girl turned around, hands on her hips and sighing, letting blue eyes wander around the isle for a moment.

"Can't find what you're looking for?" she guessed, in a hushed, husky whisper, not wanting to disturb the reigning quietness.

"It's not here," the girl answered, frowning slightly and looking straight into her green eyes.

And as deep blue gazed into her, for some strange reason, a sense of _deja vú_invaded her, and her stomach felt suddenly heavy inside her. _Do I know this girl?_, she asked herself, frowning now.

"I guess someone must have checked it out already…" the girl trailed off, once again letting blue eyes wander around, until she tilted her head to a side; curls falling over her shoulder at the movement. "Or maybe there's a blonde girl sitting on the floor readying it right now."

She blinked, suddenly getting kicked out of her semi trance like state at the girl's soft, melodic voice and that slightly teasing, kind of ironic edge to her words. She blinked again, looking down on the book she held in her hands.

"Oh."

Shaking her head, she stood up and off the floor, moving her legs a little to allow normal circulation again and straightening her back. And forcing the girl to tilt her head upwards as she did so, despite the high heeled pumps, just so that she could look at her. The boots the blonde was wearing only adding to her already tall frame.

"Here, all yours," she said, whispering again, and handing the book to the other girl. "Maybe you can make more sense out of it than me."

The girl took the offered book, looking down on it for a moment before gazing up at her again. A curious frown coming to her soft, delicate features, making her small, pointy nose wrinkle cutely.

"Does he say anything interesting, or he just talks in circles?" she asked, softly yet somewhat ironically.

She chuckled at that. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who didn't think so highly of therapists...

"Depends on how you look at it," she answered. "I'm not an expert on the subject, but in my opinion, he just sounds like any other shrink out there."

The girl smiled at her then, arching a perfectly shaped aquamarine eyebrow. "He _was_ a shrink," she pointed out.

"Exactly the problem," she agreed, nodding her head.

They both laughed then, only to earn a disapproving look and a chastising hush from the old librarian lady that was putting some books back into their rightful shelves a few feet away from them. With an almost insulted frown upon her aged face and placing a finger over her lips, the lady silently ordered them to keep quiet and be silent. And she chuckled sheepishly, shrinking her shoulders and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Sorry," the aquamarine haired girl apologized for the both of them, calming down her giggles, and then turning back to look at her.

She ran a hand through her hair, shoving her bangs out of her eyes only to have them falling right into her face again, and took a look at her wristwatch. "Crap," she muttered. "I have to go."

"Sorry to keep you here," the other girl apologized, smiling up to her.

"It's not your fault."

"Alright," the girl said, nodding her head, "sorry for taking your book, then."

She shook her shoulder, as her trademark sided smile came to her lips, and she winked at her. "Don't worry about it," she said, before bending down and taking her bag, crossing it over her shoulders, and hanging her jacket from her bag. "See you around."

"Sure," the aquamarine haired girl whispered back, returning the smile with a soft, small one of her own. "Bye," was the last, soft whisper that reached the blonde's ears before she disappeared around the corner.

Making her way fast down the stairway and striding down the lobby, she stepped out of the library, putting her sunglasses over her eyes and taking another look at her wristwatch. A softly whispered, yet colorful curse coming out of her lips; she was barely fifteen minutes away from getting majorly scolded at.

But then she smiled, making it to her car in a small jog and unlocking the door. She always enjoyed a challenge, and making it on time while facing the afternoon traffic sure sounded like one. Inserting the key, she stepped on the gas, taking off fast, barely keeping herself under speed limits.

She made it into the car shop just in time. Parking her car outside, she took her sunglasses off her eyes and placed them on the top of her head as she walked in casually. The sound of her black high heels clicking against the greasy floor alerted the young man working under the hood of a red car parked there, and he lift his head up, only to hit himself against the hood.

"Damn!" he grunted, massaging the sore spot with one hand, while trying to clean off the grease from the other against his dark gray, already dirty overall. "You're late, Tenoh," he said to her, checking his hand to make sure there was no blood, and then glaring at her.

"No, I'm not," she argued. "Right on time," she said, pointing at the clock hanging on a wall. "As usual," she added, smirking cockily.

Amber eyes rolled at her. "If you really want to be on Matsumoto's good grace, you better get that nice ass of yours in here and get to work."

Walking right past him and completely ignoring his warning tone and words, she winked at him, making her way to the locker rooms. "I already am," she simply stated, before stepping into the small room and closing the door behind her, not without catching her co-worker's narrowed eyes and openly laughing at him.

Ever since she started working here, she had been on Matsumoto's good grace. And probably even long before that, considering how Matsumoto and her father grew up together and had been best friends since childhood. The man had known her since she was on her mother's belly, and that alone was reason enough for the middle aged man to be fond of her. The fact that her father had taught her everything and anything there was to know about cars and engines also served as a good plus she surely took advantage of, making her job a whole lot easier.

Granted, Matsumoto had only agreed on taking her in and give her the job probably out of pity for her and respect for her late father's memory. But she had proven herself worthy of the job by being able to fix any car and leave it as good as new. If she couldn't fix it, no one could.

But although she enjoyed her part time job at the shop, she only came here for one very specific reason. She wanted to race.

And Matsumoto was not only her father's best friend and owned this well known car shop, but he was also the head mechanic and master brain of the pit crew down at the racing track. And that was exactly the place where she wanted to be. Only, behind the wheel, stepping on that gas pedal with all she was worth and flying down that track.

When she first went to him, wanting to get on the amateur team, Matsumoto's first answer had been a categorical, kind of colorful, decided and downright stubborn no. But after some negotiation and convincing on her part that almost bordered on begging -though her pride would never let her admit to it-, he had finally agreed on letting her give it a try and get her tall frame into one of his racing cars to go around the track for a couple of rounds, but only if she proved to him she understood the fast machine that carried her. In Matsumoto's language, that meant knowing how to fix, dismantle and put back together a car.

Accepting the challenge, trusting in her knowledge and abilities, she agreed to Matsumoto's conditions, taking a part time job a few days a week, providing she wouldn't let her studies aside, and earning herself some pocket money in the process. He had yet to meet his end of the bargain, but she was willing to wait. For a while, at least.

She walked out of the lockers room, overall covering her long legs and then tied around her waist, and a white, though completely ruined for good tank top hugging her curves. Black working boots on her feet, and a red bandana over her head to keep her hair in place and out of her eyes while preventing it from getting dirty.

"You know," her co-worker said, getting her attention as she made her way to one of the cars parked in there, waiting to be fixed, "right now, you look exactly like any guy's hot fantasy."

She rolled her eyes at the comment and rather unoriginal fantasy, shaking her head. Choosing to ignore him and just do what she came here to do, she made sure the mechanic jack was properly adjusted and then placed the tool box right next to the creeper.

"Oh, come on, babe!" he said, walking up to her and smiling charmingly. "When are you going to give me a chance?"

"When you grow brains," was her easy, bluntly honest answer, as she laid herself down on the creeper, taking the tool box with her and sliding under the car.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she heard him asking, and once again, she rolled her eyes.

If every single guy out there was as lame and full of himself as this one -and she was seriously starting to think they were-, then she was sure she was going to die one old single lady. Taking a wrench and studying the machine on top of her, she vaguely wondered if it was too soon for her to start looking for cats...


	2. Chapter 2

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

**A.N.: **Alrighty! I is back! Before anyone yells at me, there's an important note about another H/M fic of mine on my profile.

Ok, so. A long, long while ago I was re-reading the manga for writing purposes, to keep characters as true to themselves as I possibly could. So I'm reading, right? And I come upon this one line Michiru says about being happy that they're back in high school and Haruka looks at her saying she's enjoying it way too much, and Michiru says (and I quote): "Oh hush! We're gonna be teeny boopers again! Back to high School! I'm so exciting! Love letters in your locker, dates at the library, school festivals!"

And while saying so, she has this loving, teenage love struck look on her face. So, after a while, that one little line triggered a new idea. Kind of like "the way we came to be", but completely manga based. On that note, keep in mind the manga varies from the anime in several different aspects. So don't yell at me for making Haruka wear tight shorts and miniskirts and boots. Because in the manga, she wears those a lot. And Miss Takeuchi herself, when writing about Haruka on the Material Collection, clearly stated the blonde in question wears very short miniskirts, hot pants and jeans, and the like. So there! It's not just me liking the lady in hot outfits...

Of course I'd be changing a few things here and there. No offense, but 90's fashion kind of sucks, so while trying to keep the nature of each style, I'll be doing a little up to date when it comes to fashion. And since technology advanced in the last 2 decades, I'll also be adding some of that to the story. But just a little bit, and just to make the story believable (I mean, who doesn't have a cellphone these days?)

The idea of this is to make them like any other teenager, going through school and life and trying to figure out who they are, only to have them facing something much bigger than the eternal question of "what do I wanna be when I grow up?". So I'll go from that and try to mold them into what they are in the manga. Let's see how that works...

This is a Haruka/Michiru story, so yeah, there will be some girl on girl scenes. Is it really necessary for me to make that clear? *frowns* 'Cause, really, they _are _lesbians. *rolls eyes* If you don't like it, don't read.

Phew! That was a_ long_ A.N...

**petiyaka:** no, it's not going to rain. It's a pretty sunny day here, actually. And don't you _dare_ taking my spring time away. I _will_ hunt you down and kill you if you do. Did you seriously think I'd never write anything about these two ever again? I just needed the right muse to come and visit me, that's all. And it's not even a "new" story; I had the idea for it like a year ago, but the final plot came to me recently, and I didn't want to get on uploading it unless I had a clear idea of all the little details... Glad to know you're in! *tackle hug!*

**SeraEris:** done! Sorry I can't give you much. Was out of town all sunday for my niece baptism (feel free to check out the pics of the cutest chubby cheeks ever -drooling aunt over here- and a baby girl who thinks one soother is just not enough), and the 2 hours trip to come back home ended up lasting 5 ½... fun, huh? *rolls eyes* For a moment there I seriously wanted to go all Michael Duglas on "Falling down"... But I didn't, and I survived! So here's a new chap I hope you enjoy!

**Tripower:** I take it you missed me? Long time no see! Let's see if I still got it (whatever "it" was...), and hope not to disappoint you with this one!

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Anyway! Enough with the babbling! Hope you guys like this new chap. You know the deal and let me know whatcha think!

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><p><strong>2<strong>

By the time she finally made it out of the conservatory, the sun was already dying on the horizon, tinting the sky with oranges and pinks, casting a fading light over the streets. Taking a look up to the color changing sky, she held her violin case to her chest and started walking down the street and on her way to the bus stop.

She had barely made it on time, going back to her dorm and changing out of her street clothes, throwing on a more elegant though still casual Dior cream colored dress with a full, flowing skirt that reached all the way down to her knees. Matching cream, ankle strap sandals on her feet, she had safely placed the book she checked out of the library on her nightstand and, taking her violin, she had called for her father's driver so that he could take her down town.

Normally, she didn't quite like to call on him. She surely appreciated the convenience of a car, but being drive around in a spotless black Mercedes with equally black windows made her feel like the crystal glass princess everyone thought her to be. And though she was used to play the part down to perfection, she wasn't keen on doing so when there were other options at hand.

She would much rather drive her own car. But besides the fact that she was still not of age to get a driver's license, in her father's eyes, a woman driving was even worse than her refusing to use a chauffeur. Needless to say, getting herself a car was completely out of the question. But she still had other options, and she preferred to walk, or to take a bus if the distance to meet was a rather long one. Of course the mere idea of her taking a bus was simply outrageous; an insult to her family name and social status. But she had long ago discovered that what her father didn't know, didn't hurt him -or his pride.

Even with her father's chauffeur driving her, she still had been late for rehearsal. Barely three minutes late, but still late. And the only reason why the director had refrained himself from getting mad at her, lecturing her about schedules and other people's valuable time, as he usually did whenever anyone on the orchestra was late for rehearsal, was the fact that she was the best violinist he had. And the youngest one among the orchestra, too.

Her family name may have something to do with her privileged spot in the director's eyes. But she had certainly proven herself worthy of such privilege, earning everyone's respect by her own means, with her own natural talent and hard work.

"Miss Kaioh!" a male voice called out to her, making her stop in her tracks and turn around just in time to see a handsome young man hurriedly walking up to her.

"Yes, Takahashi?" she asked, in that soft, melodious voice of hers, as she smiled up to him.

He was tall, somewhere around six feet and a few inches. Obviously taller than her five feet four, which forced her to tilt her head slightly upwards to look at him.

He was handsome, too. The black tailored suit he was wearing only added to his natural charm, complementing his broad shoulders perfectly. He smiled; gray eyes shining down on her as he absently ran a hand through his short black hair.

"Please, Miss Kaioh, call me Akio," he said, smiling charmingly.

_I rather not_, she thought to herself, thinking it inappropriate for her to call him by his first name. It would only give him the false impression that there was some form of familiarity and confidence between them...

"Is there something you wanted to say to me?" she asked, purposely and elegantly avoiding calling him by any name at all.

"Yes, actually," he said, nodding his head; his charming smile never fading. "I was wondering if you would like to join me for a drink tomorrow," he offered. "Nothing too late, of course," he soon added. "I don't wish to cause you any trouble. Perhaps a tea in the afternoon?"

With a polite smile of apology that was only possible after years of practice, she looked up at him. Beautiful, deep sea blue eyes looking straight into his gray ones, slightly tilting her head to a side to add to the desired effect. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she started to say, "but I'm afraid I'm already busy tomorrow. With school and exams coming up..." she trailed off softly.

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding his understanding. "Wouldn't want you to neglect your studies."

"You're so kind, thank you for understanding," she said, slightly vowing her head to him, her polite smile never quivering as she started to turn back around. "I'll see you next monday, then," she was fast to say, before he could come up with some other plan to ask her out.

It wasn't that she found him unattractive. He was a really handsome young man. The kind that would make any girl jump up in pure happiness at the mere idea of even talking to him. And if his looks were not enough, he was an eighteen year old excellent piano player just about to get into business school next semester to follow after his father's steps. He was smart, good looking, and with a bright, promising future opening up right ahead of him. He came from a respectable, wealthy family, and he was the perfect incarnation of everything any high class young woman as herself could ever wish for.

And she honestly couldn't find anything wrong with him. Unlike some of her other suitors, who she often found amusing -in the best case scenario-, with their nervous hands rubbing together as they stuttered, trying hard to come up with the right words to ask her out on a date, Takahashi was far more confident and charming. And he understood music in a way she found worthy of her respect.

The only problem was, she knew what laid behind the masquerade. She was fully aware of the tacit contract that came along with accepting going out on a date with such fine young man as him. And though she did not question whether or not his interest in her was honest, she was smart enough to know, despite her tender fifteen years, she did not want to become someone's trophy girlfriend and potential future wife.

If there was one thing she had gained out of the all girls boarding school she went to, was her freedom. It was more of a moderated freedom, being away from her mother's watchful, critical eyes but still having to meet certain expectations as a fine young lady. But it was far better than having to put up an act twenty four hours a day, masquerading her every emotion, her very soul, so that people would only see what her mother wanted them to see.

As far as her father was concerned, he only cared for her to get a proper education, not once wander off the path of a real lady and acting accordingly, so that he could show her off in the few occasions she was allowed -or just _told_- to go to parties and galas with her parents. Disappointed at having a daughter as his only child, his only interest was for her to grow up into a beautiful, refined young lady and then marry her off to some wealthy young man that would not only look after her -and surely take her off his own hands-, but also ensure himself a good business deal that would add to his already large fortune.

For everything else, he delegated her entire education and everything and anything that had something to do with her to her mother. A refined and still beautiful woman despite her years, he had married her only because of her good family name, so that she could give him an hair -a task in which she had obviously failed-, and in return for her troubles, he could manage her family's business, merging them with his own, creating Tokyo's biggest empire in the building construction area.

But as refined and cultured as her mother obviously was, her parents' marriage was a complete charade, and they barely bothered keeping up appearances, going to a handful of galas together, only to spend the rest of their time on completely different continents. So while her workaholic father spent his days and nights at his office -either actually working, or entertaining affairs with his secretary, she really didn't care-, her mother spent most of her time traveling around. Summers in Italy, cruise trips around the Mediterranean Sea, spring time in Paris. Parties and fashion shows all over the old continent, and sometimes even across the sea, having wonderfully joyful times with her wealthy, famous friends, and entertaining an affair or two with some handsome, dark, muscular young waiter.

Affairs she often found out the details of when traveling along with her mother. Always refraining herself from voicing an opinion on the matter, not honestly caring with whom her mother choose to share her bed with, she had been happy when her mother first announced she was being sent to an all girls boarding school. While her mother had finally realized such life was not exactly proper for a young girl her age, she had seen the opportunity to be on her own and embraced it with all her might. As much as she enjoyed visiting the old cities, absorbing their culture, history, art and architecture like a greedy sponge, the galas and parties and tea times with the socialite were definitively not her favorite pond.

Of course, being back in Tokyo still meant having to put up an act or two. And she was still forced into a nightgown to act her part in the twice a year gala her school organized, where fine young men from an all boys school were always and religiously invited. Catholic school or not, the need of ensuring a promising future to the young ladies within their care did not escape the school's faculty; offering the means to find respectable young men of their social status was a must. They did not encourage any outrageous behavior, of course, and chaperons always made sure nothing went any further than maybe a chaste kiss on the cheeks during said dances and galas.

But twice a year was something she could put up with. And it wasn't the nightgown that she minded, but the never ending list of potential suitors coming her way.

But most of the times, when it was just attending to class and the opportunity to spend her free time as she pleased, she had finally been able to be herself. And to find out who that was, for real; who she wanted to be in life regardless of other people's thoughts and expectations. And upon discovering herself, her ability to express through art and music, both areas in which she was incredibly talented, and her always latent yet only now fully exploded link to the seas, finding in the swimming team a way to connect herself with the ever changing element, she was not exactly keen on the idea of chaining herself to someone else only because society dictated that was what she was supposed to do with her life.

To be someone's perfect little wife, wearing exquisite designer's dresses, all soft smiles and cordial manners, perfectly able to give orders to a troop of servants while making a marvelous hostess when throwing a party. The perfect wife of some respected young man who's only real purpose in life was to give the man an heir.

A perfectly made up marriage, just like the one her parents had.

Of course, the idea of having a family of her own some day wasn't an unpleasant one. But that was not the only thing she wanted to achieve in life. She wanted more, and until the time to settle down came and she had to take the task of finding herself a suitable husband in a more serious manner, she was more than willing to do things her way and follow her own path. She knew what she wanted, and if anything, that alone made her one of the lucky ones.

She had dreams, and she was on the right place to give it her best shot and make things happen. She wasn't much of an egocentric, arrogant person, but felt no shame on acknowledging she was a rather good violinist. Never a conformist, and knowing better than to just trust her natural talent, she worked hard on her skills, always pushing herself harder to exceed not someone else's expectations, but her own. And with the sense of accomplishment that only came after such hard work, she knew it was only a matter of time until she got known enough to start giving her own solo concerts.

She made it back to school campus and went straight to her dorm, carefully putting her violin over her desk, and then walking up to her portion of the wardrobe, taking her dress off and carefully putting it back on a hanger. She was supposed to wear her uniform when on school campus, but she was not planning on going to dinner, so she put on her white chiffon sleeping babydoll instead.

Turning the sheets down and grabbing the book she had checked out of the public library, she got into bed, covering her legs with the sheets and turning on the nightstand lamp. Taking a quick glance at the index, completely skipping the introduction and jumping to the chapter she thought might help her the most, she turned the pages around and started reading.

Attentive blue eyes taking in the printed words, she eagerly read through the pages, hoping to get some insight and a more clear idea on what dreams could mean. But not even an hour into her task, she discovered the tall blonde girl she had run into back at the library was right; this guy did talk like any other shrink.

Not that she had anything against psychoanalysis. On the contrary, she often found it quite interesting, the way the human mind work, with all its dark, secret corners and all the wonders and terrors it was capable of. But she certainly didn't share Freud's input on dreams and their secret meaning, as she highly doubted the strange, bizarre, and sometimes quite terrifying dreams she had been having lately were nothing but her own mind's manifestation of unfulfilled, repressed wishes. But then again, she normally wouldn't even pay that much attention to her mind's visit to dreamland in the first place.

But after having the same dream over and over again for over a month now, fragmented, and often offering slight variations of the very same outcome, she finally decided it was time to take a closer look. It terrified her, and she wasn't quite sure of why she was having this dream or how she could prevent such terrible event from ever coming to be. But if it was more than just a dream, a vision or a revelation of some sort, then she needed to know. Something deep inside her urged her to, and if indeed she was not losing her mind and there truly was some sort of meaning to it, then she was going to find out what it was.

But maybe Freud was not the right approach for this.

Closing the book and placing it back on her nightstand table, she turned her face towards the window next to her bed. Resting her head over the pillows, one hand up and leisurely playing with one long curly lock of aquamarine hair, she let her eyes wander around the night sky. That same old pull she had always felt invading her again as she gazed up at the moon. There was just something about it, calling out to her…

The gentle night's wind met her face, and a soft, low sigh escaped her lips. A sadly familiar loneliness once more tugging at her heart. And she chuckled to herself.

Maybe she seriously needed to keep on reading Freud. Or maybe find herself a therapist. The wind always made her sad and lonely, she felt a pull towards the moon, and a connection to the seas. Surely, that alone made her one interesting character. With the addition to her recurrent dream, it was hard at times to tell herself she was not going crazy. But the wind, the seas and the moon were so strong at times, she found it hard not to give in and search deep within herself for a meaning.

It had to mean something. It just had to. For as crazy and irrational as it may all sound and seem, she knew, deep inside her, there was a meaning to all these strange feelings. And it was all somehow connected. She just needed to find that connection, and then follow the trail of bread crumbs. Like Gretel, she just needed to find her way.

Finding a Hansel along the way wouldn't hurt. It would sure be nice to have someone to share her worries and concerns with. A friend to relay on while following the path that was slowly but surely opening up in front of her. She was usually a quiet person, and she kept to herself. But she had a feeling that whatever it was that was presenting itself to her now, it was something she didn't want to have to face alone.

Another sigh escaped her as the nightly wind lulled her to sleep. Remembering hearing or reading somewhere that memories from past lives sometimes came back in the form of dreams, and deciding that taking a look into that theory couldn't hurt, she finally let her eyes drift closed.

.-.

She stepped out to the balcony that overviewed the magnificent garden. Sliding her shoes off and taking them in one hand, she lifted the skirts of her dress, softly and soundlessly stepping down the marble stairway. A soft, gentle smile coming to her lips as her bare feet came in contact with the fresh, rich grass.

The sounds of the ball inside still reached her, the band playing and people dancing and laughing. But the quietness of the gardens still filled her, relaxing her, as she gazed up at the stars, shining brightly and proudly up on the velvet sky.

"Sneaking out like this does not suit you well, Neptune," came a teasing, deep, husky voice, startling her at first. But soon she got over her initial surprise, looking around for the owner of the voice.

"I could say the same about you," she accused, playfully. Taking a few steps forward and walking around a large bush proved to be fruitless, and she gave up on her search. "How did you know I was out here?"

A low, husky chuckle and then, "The wind carries the scent of the seas. It always does when you are around."

"I see," she whispered, now with a more accurate idea of where the voice was coming from. "A pleasant scent, I assume?"

"As pleasant as everything around you is."

She arched an eyebrow at that. "That is neither an affirmation nor a negation," she noted, looking up at the tree she was now standing in front of.

And there, up in a large branch, a tall woman stood. Her deep blue pleated miniskirt dancing in the night's wind, doing nothing to hide endless, wonderfully shaped legs, just as the woman was not doing much to prevent said skirt from occasionally lifting up, offering quite a show of pearly white skin to whomever may catch glimpse of her. Cobalt blue midcalf high heeled boots, a white leotard hugging her every curve, and a golden sword hanging from her hips; intricate, beautiful patterns of gold and blue decorating the belt attached to it.

One hand against the trunk, the other casually resting on her round hips. Her relaxed posture was openly betrayed by the power and dominance she inspired with her every pore.

"Your disguised question did not necessary require a yes or no answer," the woman said, in a nonchalant tone. "Perhaps you should ask more direct questions if you wish for a more straight answer."

"Perhaps," she agreed, nodding her head. "I could have sworn you were wearing a different outfit when you first arrived here."

Another deep, husky chuckle, as the woman shook her shoulder. "A gown is hardly the right outfit to be wearing when climbing up a tree, don't you think?"

"And said tree is hardly the right place to be on in the middle of a ball," she pointed out.

"I trust you won't tell on me."

"Have I ever?"

Yet another chuckle reached her, as the woman jumped off, silently and gracefully landing on the soft grass. The intensity of her gaze did not escape her, as the woman's outfit faded away and changed. The wind picking up around and the flooding energy surrounding her did not disturb either of them, as she kept her eyes on the beautiful tall woman in front of her. Her nakedness not going unnoticed, yet not fully giving herself the pleasure of open appreciation, as the golden energy finally faded and gave way to the same cobalt blue dress from earlier that evening.

"You have yet to disappoint me," the woman, now in a full cobalt blue nightgown, said. "On any given matter."

"Is that a compliment I hear?" she asked, arching a teasing eyebrow.

"Are you looking for one?"

"Maybe I am."

The softest of smiles came to the woman's lips then, and her heart jumped in pure delight as a soft, slender hand made its way to her cheek in tender caress. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Uranus," she called out to her, her voice soft and filled with tenderness, as she leaned in into the hand against her cheek, gently cupping it with her own. Her eyes drifting closed as a velvet like thumb traced her lips in doting gesture, and she kissed it, tenderly and lovingly.

"We should go back inside before someone comes looking for us."

Ignoring the prick of pain that stained her heart at the words, she nodded her head, letting go of the soft, slender hand and letting out a sigh. "Yes, we should."

The woman took a step to a side, turning around to make her way back into the ballroom, and her heart jumped up inside her ribcage, this time in protest to her leaving.

"Hey, Michiru!" someone called out to her.

_What?_

She met the small distance separating them, encircling her arms around the thin waist and resting her cheek on the woman's bare back, taking in the warm softness of her skin. "It always hurts to see you leave," she said, in a low, almost broken whisper. "Never knowing if I will ever see you again, if this is the last time…"

She turned her face to a side; her nose gently nuzzling against her forehead. "My body may leave," the woman said, taking her hand in hers and guiding it up to her chest, right in between her round, full breasts, "but my heart is forever yours."

"Earth to Michiru!" came that distant calling again.

"I love you, Neptune," the woman whispered, huskily, softly. Lovingly. With nothing but naked truth, straight from her heart. "Until the end of times, and beyond."

"Wake up, girl!"

"Never forget that."

"I won't," she assured, with just as much honesty and love in her own voice as she could summon. But before she could return the words of love to the tall, beautiful woman, she found herself blinking up into the honey colored eyes of the girl sitting next to her in her bed.

"Yeah, I can see that," her roommate said, rolling her eyes at her and standing up. "Geez, did you take sleeping pills or something?" she asked, rearranging the pleated skirt of her uniform and tugging her shirt inside. "It's bad enough with one sleepy head around here, please don't follow Sayuri's terrible example."

"Hey!" her other roommate, Sayuri, complained, turning from her place in front of the vanity and sticking her tongue out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, rubbing the sleep off her eyes and sitting up on her bed. "I… didn't sleep well…"

"You ok?" the girl asked, turning back to her and frowning. "Maybe you do need sleeping pills."

"You know what, Yoshi?" Sayuri said, rolling her eyes at the honey eyed girl. "Pills don't magically solve everything."

"Tell that to my mother."

Ignoring her roommates' usual morning bickering, she let herself fall back into her pillow, frowning. Bits and pieces of her dream still dancing in her mind's eye.

"Come on, Michiru," Sayuri called out to her, urgently. "We'll be late for breakfast if we don't hurry, and you know how Mother Superior gets…"

Raising a hand up to her throat and mimicking as if her fingers were a fire gun, Yoshi rolled her eyes, imitating a shooting sound.

Any other morning, Michiru would have found Yoshi's antics funny. But as she rose from bed and made her way to her wardrobe so that she could put on her uniform, she could only frown.

She wasn't stupid enough not to understand the implicit exchange between her and that tall, mysterious woman. And it had all seemed so real; the intensity, the pain, the love, the longing. The nature of the relationship between the two was evident in their every move and word, and yet she had no idea of who this woman was, how or from where did she know her, and how or why exactly had she ended up having such a dream in the first place.

What the hell was that?


	3. Chapter 3

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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She made her way up the stairs and into the lobby, violin case in hand, feeling much more relaxed after spending a long while by herself. The small, hidden gazebo in the middle of the park served both as a small getaway and as a perfect place to let herself get lost, letting the music she created with her violin take her.

Though she had not stayed there playing long enough to really ease her mind. That strange dream was still dancing in her thoughts, confusing and intriguing. So much so, that it had been particularly hard to concentrate in class today, and as she stood in the gazebo at the park, playing her violin and knowing herself alone in there, she couldn't shake the feeling off of that woman's presence all around her.

She could not remember her eyes, yet she clearly remembered the intensity dancing in then. She could barely remember her voice, but her words still echoed in her head. She didn't remember ever seeing her face, yet she knew, the mysterious woman in her dream had been beautiful beyond words.

She shook her head, letting out a sigh. It was the first time she ever dreamt of her, and yet, she had a feeling this woman was somehow related to her already confusing enough dreams. And she was now even more determined to try and find out what it all meant.

Stopping at the front desk to ask for directions and references, she smiled to the nice old lady before stepping out, going up the stairs and in search of the pointed sector. She walked past the main area, where dozens of people were sitting around the desks and sofas, reading, studying or investigating. Pile after pile of books all around, and a reigning silence, barely interrupted by hushed whispers here and there. And she ignored it all as she walked past the isles, rearranging her school bag over her shoulder and stepping into the small isle she had been pointed to.

It wasn't as small as the one she had been to the day before. The bookshelves placed in an L shape with the cornered end offering quite a private small area, a desk with four chairs in the longer sector, and a small window on a corner that didn't really allowed that much light in. The silver laptop over the table didn't surprise her, nor did the large cardboard coffee cup resting to one side of it, or the pile of books to the other. Though the latest surely made a rather interesting pile, subjects going from ancient Greece and mythology, to World War II history and modern Japanese.

What did surprise her though, was the girl sitting in front of said interesting pile of books. Coffee cup and laptop seemingly forgotten for the moment, she lazily rested her back against the chair, swinging a pencil around in one hand, as she read the book she held in the other -'Brave new world', she noticed, yet another peculiar, interesting book to add to the pile. Legs crossed, left ankle resting over her right knee, completely disregarding the unladylike posture or the fact that she was wearing the deep blue pleated skirt of her school uniform. And judging by the combat boots with loosen chords, the white shirt off the skirt, and the loosen deep blue tie hanging off the collar, she probably didn't care.

"Hello again," she said, getting the blonde's attention and smiling cordially as green eyes blinked up at her.

"Hi," the girl greeted. One blonde eyebrow slightly twitching, curiously, questionably, as green eyes blinked at her again.

"You mind if I take this?" she asked, pointing at one of the empty chairs around the table.

The blonde shook her shoulder. "It's a free world."

She was surprised at the rather acid answer, specially considering this same girl had been quite nice the day before. But she didn't allow herself to show this, and simply nodded her head, placing her violin case and school bag over the table, and then walking up to the bookshelves, searching for the few titles that would, hopefully, answer at least a few questions.

Following the numbers in the card the nice librarian had given to her at the front desk, she found the first of the books she had been referred to and took it, walking back to the table and sitting down on the chair. Opening the book and going straight to the index, reading through it before picking up a chapter, she flipped the pages and started her reading.

Fully aware of green eyes following her every move, she ignored the girl for as long as she could, until finally giving up and looking up at her.

The look in those emerald eyes was intense. Not exactly friendly, but not ice cold either. Just, intense. Studious. With a certain flame to it, latent, almost dormant, but still there. It was the kind of look that would make others shift uncomfortably in their seats, but she didn't recoil. Not once adverting her eyes away, she kept her gaze, waiting for whatever it was the girl was contemplating on saying or not to just come out.

Her face, tranquil, serene, relaxed, not once betraying the inward, curious frown. There was something about this girl…

The 'tall blonde with green eyes' description wasn't exactly a narrowing one, and she knew a lot of girls out there matched that very same description. Blonde hair and green eyes was average, and she knew it. But as she looked at her, she knew, this particular girl was everything but.

The defined line of her jaw, the curve of her lips, her small, pointy nose, her soft yet defined high cheekbones. The long eyelashes framing her eyes. And her eyes; a closer look told her there was a darker shade of green surrounding them, and then small, almost golden spots nearing the pupils, like little freckles in her eyes. Just like the ones in her cheeks and over her nose, faint but still there, and she guessed a bit of sun would make them come up to the surface.

No, this girl was definitively not average. And it occurred to her, this girl would make a great model for her to portrait. Her features, her height, even the intense look in her eyes. It would be quite a challenge, to try to pour all these little details and treats into a canvas. But she shook that idea off as soon as it came.

The girl was hardly being social right now…

.-.

Immaculate white shirt tackled in. White, gray and black pleated brit skirt and matching ribbon around the collar. Perfectly white ankle socks and impeccable black shoes. Hair pulled into a neat half ponytail, black little ribbon holding it up.

Oh, and violin case in hand.

The girl screamed private school.

Privileged private school, at that.

She knew the type. Rich little girls, with their designers' clothes and their expensive handbags and cell phones and whatever other technological must have out there. Playing grown up with their VIP passes to dance clubs and music shows, and mastering to perfection the nice little girl act, battling their eyelashes to their fathers, always satisfying their every whim, growing up under the false impression that the rest of the world would react to their battling eyelashes the same way as their fathers, bending to their every wish and command.

She didn't like that type. Not one bit.

She didn't have anything to envy them. At all. She had designer clothes herself, and she could just as easily get her hands on pass tickets to any event she felt like going. But there was a difference between those girls and her.

Her parents had made absolutely sure to rip off the silver spoon out of her mouth before she was even old enough to understand what it meant to be born into a wealthy family. Her father had worked his way through college on a small car shop with his best friend -a job that soon became a little hobby of his, passing it on to his daughter -, and with her mother, they had put their creative minds to work, building the Tenoh Studio from scratch. But never forgetting their roots.

Not wanting their daughter to grow up in privilege and wealth, never knowing what the real world out there was like, her parents decided against privileged, private schools, choosing a public one instead. Yes, they used to live in a big house, with a huge backyard, a pool, and an overlarge garage, in a nice, residential area of the city. And yes, they would take her with them when traveling around the globe on vacations. Getting her her very own black baby grand piano when she had shown interest in music, and her own TV and home theater to her room, though always restringing her use of it. Encouraging and loving, always supporting her, but never conceiting her, making her work for what she wanted, earning it.

Her uncle, having been raised the same way as her father, never saw a reason to change that. He raised his own kids differently -though she knew, that had more to do with his wife than him-, but he had respected his brother's wishes, not making her change schools, even though the one she attended to was considerably far from where she now lived. Which was the only reason why she even had a car, even if she was still a good year away from being of legal age to do so -probably the only real privilege she fully enjoyed. But she had had to work for it, proving to be a good, responsible girl. And in her uncle's eyes that pretty much translated as study hard, get good grades, don't get into trouble and don't give me any headaches, and you'll get the car.

And not just any car; a convertible silver CLK Mercedes. Though she was more of the sport car kind of girl, this car had style, modern technology, and most importantly, leather interior. But the reason why she loved it so much was not because it was, in fact, a really nice car, but because it belonged to her father.

Besides her family name, which people often recognized, her car was probably the only thing that truly set her apart. Not every teenager drove a Mercedes.

But she knew the type. She had seen them vacationing in Europe, spending their summers with their parents, mingling and socializing on parties and social events. And though she had nothing to envy from these girls, she seriously, honestly didn't like them. Besides the fact they could be quite annoying and completely clueless, they were usually plain boring.

But there was something in the aqua girl in front of her…

Something different. Something in the way she held herself, confident and calm, yet strong, and in the way she kept her gaze where so many others would have already shrink and shy away. There was something in those blue orbs that reminded her of the sea; calm and serene on the surface, but always waving, always hiding its true nature in its never ending depth.

Her trademark smirk made it to her lips then. This girl may seem like the perfect little princess, but she was not fooled. There was something more to her; something deeper, something hidden… And a good mystery was just as good as a good challenge.

"I'm sorry, I'm having a bad day," she finally said, as a way of an apology, both for staring at her and for her initial rude behavior. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly yesterday," she said, extending her hand across the table. "Haruka Tenoh."

The girl seemed to consider her for a moment, tilting her head to a side and slightly, almost imperceptibly narrowing her eyes at her. A gesture that let her know the girl had recognized the name.

Not that it surprised her. Anyone who read the papers knew the name. And though most people didn't know of her -or were happy to ignore her until she would become of suitable age for young man to start chasing after her-, she was sure there was not one single person in the entire country that hasn't heard of her uncle and her late father.

But she also knew, right then and there, the girl had not only recognized the family name; she was also studying her. Measuring her up. Instead of jumping in and wanting to be friends with her, like most people did when finding out she was a Tenoh, this girl was not as eager and bubbly.

And she liked that.

"Michiru Kaioh," she said, in that soft, melodic voice of hers, accepting her hand and shaking it with her own. "Apology accepted."

She had to actually keep herself from letting out a whistle, settling with a sided, slightly amused smile instead.

A Kaioh.

She vaguely wondered what her uncle would say of this. The late night shouts through the phone were hard to miss, no matter how big the house was, and she was fully aware of the love hate working relationship between her uncle and one Mr. Kazuki Kaioh. One thing was for sure, though; if this girl had even half her father's hot temper, then she surely was in for a ride.

She just hoped to be right, and this girl wouldn't end up being just another boring little rich girl...

"You're not stalking me, are you?" she asked, arching a questioning eyebrow.

She wasn't exactly sure of what she was expecting, but the slightly arched, nonchalant aquamarine eyebrow and the ghost of a smile tugging at the girl's lips came as a rather nice surprise. This girl did not recoil or back away easily.

_Challenging indeed_, she thought to herself, now seriously and honestly wondering what did lay underneath her calm, reticent exterior.

"I could ask you the exact same thing," Michiru simply stated. "Besides, what kind of stalker would I be, walking in here so openly for you to see me?" she reasoned.

"A really bad one."

"Is there a reason as to why I should stalk you, Miss Tenoh?"

"Haruka. And, I don't know, probably the same reasons _I'd_ have to stalk _you_, Miss Kaioh."

"Michiru. And there is none."

Her smirk came back to her lips then. "So there you have it," she said, slightly nodding her head. "Let's call this a coincidence, then."

"Let's," Michiru agreed. Her blue eyes and her calm, tranquil face not changing once. "Your coffee's getting cold."

"My coffee is long gone."

The girl's calm exterior finally broke then, though only in part. Slightly. One aquamarine eyebrow going up, questioningly, almost mockingly. "Long night?"

"Something like that," she answered, not really offering any kind of explanation.

She was perfectly aware of the implied meaning of such question, but she didn't really find a reason to explain herself. Michiru's silent accusation was far from the truth, but as untrue as it was, it was far better than telling this girl the truth -no that she would, but still-, only to end up looking like the crazy person she was starting to consider herself as.

Though by judging by the book she held in her hands, she doubted Michiru would think her crazy. Most people thought 'Old souls' was not exactly a book worth reading, its main subject not being as appealing as some other non fictional books out there. But the fact that she was even reading that proved she was, if anything, a girl with an opened mind.

"Interesting choice of reading material," she said, nodding towards the book in question.

The small, polite smile that came to Michiru's lips was a false, carefully studied one. One the girl surely used on a regular basis. It wasn't obvious, it didn't quite seem untrue. On the contrary. But she knew, it wasn't a real smile. She didn't even know this girl, yet she was able to read through her act.

"Looking to satisfy a healthy curiosity," Michiru offered. "You have quite an interesting choice of books yourself," she then added, breaking eye contact only long enough to look at the pile of books resting next to her laptop.

"I'm afraid I have less noble reasons," she said, smirking again, "and a paper to write."

"Sounds like a promising paper, with such wide variety of subjects."

"I sure hope so," she agreed, nodding her head. "Though the wide variety responds to different classes."

"Ah, I see."

"Disappointed?"

The girl paused for a moment, tilting her head to a side; aquamarine, soft looking curls cascading down her shoulder as she did so, obviously considering her answer. "Curious," she finally provided, after a moment of silence.

A small humming sound escaped her at the answer. A curious, yet satisfied eyebrow arching up, and that sided smile of hers coming back to her lips, knowing the curiosity was not solemnly and exclusively directed to the pile of books and their subjects, but to her.

Her smile widening just barely, and a soft chuckle escaping her when Michiru gifted her with a confident, knowing smile of her own, slightly nodding her head towards her before the both of them silently agreed on ending their small talk. Sea blue eyes went back to reading, and she lingered a little longer, watching the girl for a few more seconds, before returning to her own reading.

.-.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the blonde girl occasionally interrupting her reading to write something down on the small sticky noteblock she only now noticed and then plastering the sticky on the palm-rest area of her laptop's keyboard. Other than that, and the dancing of the pencil in between her fingers, Haruka seemed to be willing to share the desk she had claimed to herself without farther questioning.

The silence that now reigned between them responded to a matter of location and task at hand in both ends, rather than lack of interest, and Michiru knew it. She was sure that, given different circumstances, the blonde wouldn't have let it rest, continuing with her careful study of her, scrutinizing their every word and masterly disguising them as small talk.

It was a rather nice discovery, to find someone around her age and of similar status that didn't quite fit the imposed mold. Not exactly rude per say, this girl didn't seem to be fond of small talks and shallow friendships. Unlike most the girls she knew and went to school with, the blonde didn't quite follow the script, talking with her and acting as if they've known each other their whole lives and were best friends. She did her own thing, her own way, and had obviously no problem whatsoever in letting others know that, not even trying to disguise the fact that she was, indeed, studying them.

And Michiru liked that. It was refreshing, finding someone this frank, this blunt, instead of the regular perfectly mannered young lady that only spared the time to talk to her because etiquette, politeness and social decorum said so. For as good as she was on her role, and as much as she honestly enjoyed her roommates' usual bickering and jokes, she couldn't help but look at it all as... well, fake.

Fake smiles in a fake sisterhood, in a fake world filled with fake relationships of all kinds.

She liked her roommates. She truly did. But she never really considered them as friends. Not in the real, deep meaning of it. And though she sometimes felt guilty for being this unattached, fully aware of how half the school -if not all- saw her as a cold person, she couldn't help it. Except for their shared classes, she had nothing in common with the girls she went to school with, and she saw no point on forging a friendship with any of them. And as she noticed the blonde writing down another note and sticking it to her laptop, she wondered if maybe the girl in front of her now was truly as different as she seemed to be. If maybe there was something more in common between them other than the desk they were now silently sharing.

She was curious. For some reason, the blonde struck her as a wild, fierce girl, and finding out what really laid beneath those studious, calculating, assertive green eyes came to her as a rather intriguing challenge.

But everything had its time and place, she reminded herself. Pushing wondering thoughts about the blonde aside, she concentrated on her reading once more.

She found it rather interesting, with all the information, description and reconstruction of events. It wasn't exactly helpful to her current situation, but it did offer some insight on the matter. And a sort of comfort, to know that the idea of reincarnation was not such a wild one, and the possibility of past lives memories coming back, either in dreams or under hypnosis, was actually quite real. It eased her mind, but it still left her questions unanswered.

By the time she looked at her wristwatch again, she realized she barely had enough time to make it back to campus. Without proper authorization, and knowing she had not offered any previous information to let the school know she would be spending the night with her father -not that she had any intentions of doing so-, she knew she could get into trouble for making her way back to school's property after curfew. And she was just not in the mood to listen to Mother Superior giving her a long, tedious lecture about proper behavior and rules. She heard those every single morning during breakfast; she certainly didn't need a reminder.

Knowing that the book she was currently reading could bring all kinds of questions from her roommates, and knowing full well what catholics thought about everything and anything that did not strictly responded to their credo, she decided against checking the book out. She didn't want any kind of questions regarding the matter, knowing there was no way she could ever answer truthfully, and she didn't appreciate being questioned in the first place. She could easily come back and keep on reading it, or maybe even pick another one to maybe open up the specter of possibilities a little bit whenever she could find the free time to do so.

With that in mind, she stood up from the chair, going back to the bookshelf she had previously taken the book from and putting it back into place. Turning back around, she returned to the table to pick up her school bag and her case. Green eyes once more following her every move all the while.

"I have to go," she announced, accommodating her bag over her shoulder.

"Of course," was all the blonde said, nodding her head. "It's getting late," she added; a slight edge of mockery to her tone, as if she knew she had a strict timetable to meet.

Knowing this was just another one of the blonde's testing comments, she chose to ignore it, not offering any farther information to whatever the girl was assuming. Instead, she simply nodded her head, ready to go her way.

The blonde nodded too. "'Till next coincidental meeting."

"Until then," she agreed, before turning around and stepping out of the small isle, wondering if there would really be a next time.

And, to her surprise, she found herself hoping so.

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><p>"Brave new world" by Aldous Huxley.<p>

"Old souls: the scientific evidence for past lives" by Tom Shroder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>4<strong>

"I said I don't want to!" was the yell that welcomed her when she finally made it back, soon followed by a long, frustrated, high pitch scream.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the door behind her and left her keys on the table by the hallway, lazily reacomodating her school bag over her shoulder and vaguely wondering if she even wanted to know what all the fuss was about. But she soon decided she didn't; that girl could always find one reason or another to act like the spoil little brat she was, no matter what.

"Chiyoko!" a female voice exclaimed, in a rather loud tone, just to be heard over the continuous scream.

"No, no, no, no!" the girl kept on screaming, even louder now.

"Ok, just… stop screaming…" the woman trailed off, in a rather begging tone now. "Kazue!"

She winced, not for the first time feeling sorry for the nanny. She would have long ago drowned that girl to death…

"Yes, Mrs. Tenoh," came Kazue's sweet, kind voice. "Come on, Chiyoko, let's go to your room and finish that science project of yours."

"I don't want to!" the girl complained, yelling yet again.

"You said you wanted to make it to first place, right?" Kazue tried again.

That did it. The girl finally stopped complaining and yelling. Ironically enough, the silence that came after she shut up was deafening.

She shook her head, letting out a tired sigh and ready to make her way into the kitchen to see if there was anything of her liking to shove into her empty stomach, when a small pair of hands found her legs, and she looked down into soft blue eyes and a mop of short blonde hair.

"Found ya!" the little three year old said, smiling up to her.

She chuckled, bending down and picking the boy up in her arms. "Yes, you did," she said, smiling to him. "Now, tell me, why do you have chocolate all over your face?" she asked, amused.

"Cookies!" the boy exclaimed, happily raising his hands up in the air.

She chuckled again, tenderly kissing the top of his head. She knew it was probably a matter of time before he would follow right into his big sister's steps, becoming yet another little rich spoil brat. But for now, he was just a cute little boy, and she loved him for that; for being just a normal kid and being perfectly happy with the smallest, silliest of things, like chocolate cookies or piggy back rides.

A grumpy sigh forced her eyes away from the smiling boy in her arms, to look at the frowning young face of the seven year old brunette girl, as she walked out of the lounge room and into the hallway. Dark green eyes rolling at her, before she turned back to look into the room she had just left.

"Haruka is here!" she announced, in yet another one of her annoying yells, before turning back around and snapping her fingers to the young woman behind her without even bothering to look at her. "Come on, Kazue, let's go," she ordered, making her way to the stairway.

She forced herself to take a deep, long breath in order to stop herself from spanking the girl. She was not the one supposed to give her a good lesson and teach her about respect towards others. And she knew it wasn't exactly the girl's fault being this disrespectful, annoying and conceited, but damn it, if she had such an attitude at seven, she didn't want to know what she would be like at sixteen…

But she didn't care that much. Hopefully, she would be on her own and out of that house by then, so she wouldn't have to witness any more whims and tantrums.

The sound of high heels against the marble floor reached her ears, and soon enough, the half frowning, half bored face of her uncle's wife came out of the lounge room. Dark blue eyes looking her up and down, before the woman stepped up to her, taking the little boy off her arms.

"You know better than to bother Haruka, Kiyoshi," came the reprimanding voice, as the woman scolded the little boy.

What was it with this woman always trying to keep her away from the boy? It was as if she didn't want her here, in the first place. Which, of course, she probably didn't; she was nothing but the orphan girl her husband had taken in because she had nowhere else to go, who would do things her way and as she pleased, not voicing an opinion but still making what she thought of her and her abilities as a mother quite clear with just one look and a questioning eyebrow.

So, yes, she was just a fifteen year old girl she was forced to live with. But it wasn't as if they saw each other every day, all day long. And Haruka couldn't honestly see what was it about her that was such a bad influence to little Kiyoshi; playing with the boy, giving him piggy back rides and letting him chase her around the garden was, in her opinion, better than just handing him over to the nanny. Or to his father, whenever he was around to actually play with his son.

Tall, slender, and with magnificent curves, Masami Tenoh was the proud owner of stunning blue eyes and silky black hair. She was a beautiful young woman, and it wasn't really that hard for Haruka to see why her uncle had first laid eyes on her. Masami was exactly what young girls Haruka's age were supposed to become someday; beautiful and with impeccable taste in fashion, rich, and married to a successful and equally rich -if not more- young man, with two children, one of which would be able to carry on the prestigious family name, and a schedule filled with social events, tea parties, shopping flees and charities. And a nanny, of course; someone had to take care of the little ones.

Yes, she was a beautiful woman. And as shallow and manipulative as they came. And Haruka hoped to God the woman rocked in bed; there had to be a pretty damn good reason as to why her uncle married her. Manipulating men through sex was a well known weapon, and a killer body and great sex usually came hand to hand to such ability.

And if she didn't, then she hoped her uncle was at least having an affair with the nanny.

She was a long shot away from being an expert in the area, and she wasn't honestly dying to become one either, but if everyone was so crazy about sex, then there had to be a pretty good reason for it. And she often heard people saying it was a good way to vent out frustration while having a really good time. Every man above the age of thirteen was sex crazy, and even if she was blissfully unaware of her uncle's private life and affairs, she highly doubted he was that different from his peers. And the guy deserved at least a speckle of happiness other than whatever sense of fulfillment he got out if his job, and the occasional, endearing moments he spent with his son. His daughter rarely even talked to him, unless it was to beg for something her mother had -miraculously- said not to.

Sometimes, she felt honestly sorry for her uncle…

"Where have you been all day?" the woman asked, forcing her out of her line of thoughts.

Funny, for a second there, she almost sounded as if she actually cared.

Almost. But Haruka knew better, and Masami was probably just asking to pry into her life. And maybe even finally being able to find a way to control her and force her into doing what she wanted her to do.

"Out," she answered, unwilling to give any more information than that.

Kissing Kiyoshi's forehead and tenderly ruffling his hair a little, earning a cute, heartwarming set of giggles from the boy and a questioning eyebrow from Masami in return for her actions, she turned around, remembering her initial intentions of eating something before going to her room. Walking into the kitchen, she went straight for the fridge, opening it up and taking a good look through zip bags and tappers, trying to decide what she was in the mood for.

Deciding there was nothing that particularly interested her, and not really in the mood to wait for the microwave to warm up anything of what was in the fridge, she took a few vegetables out, carrots, tomatoes, and some lettuce, deciding to make herself a salad. Placing her vegetables over the counter, she looked for a bowl, a cutting table and a knife, and then started on the task of preparing her dinner.

Dinner time was still a good forty minutes away, and she knew it. But considering there was nothing in the oven and no cook around, and guessing Masami had probably fired the latest one, she guessed she wouldn't be missing out on much. And she wasn't fond of family dinners, anyway; that meant having to spent more time than absolutely necessary with Masami and her annoying daughter, who was soon becoming as ridiculously demanding with her food as her mother was.

The woman's expectations when it came to food were simply ridiculous, and she was always either firing cooks, or being forced to look for a new one because they wouldn't put up with her crazy -and some times downright impossible- demands of strawberries with cream when it was not the season and strawberries were hard, if not impossible to find, or rusted duck with orange sauce that had to be exactly as she wanted it, making the cook throw everything away and start all over again if the recipe and cooking did not reach her expectations. She threw away more food than what she actually ate, and more times than not, cooks ended up quitting after a week or two.

It was a miracle the house keeping lady and the nanny were still around. But then again, Masami wouldn't be able to keep her life and agenda up if she had to actually take care of her kids while cleaning up the house…

Even though she had been only a child back then, she remembered her father being both disappointed and angry at her uncle when he announced his wedding. And now that she was actually living with him, she understood her father's anger and disappointment. His wife was a living nightmare, and she doubted he was a happily married man. He wouldn't drown himself in work and would smile more often if he was.

Because of all these, she often ate in her room whenever she was unable to make it back after dinner time. That way, she could actually enjoy her meal in peace and quietness, while maybe watching some tv, or reading a book, or gazing up at the dark night sky. Or whatever else she felt like doing that didn't include hearing constant complaints and demands and whims, feeling sorry for her uncle as he obviously had no opinion when it came to Chiyoko, and hearing Masami constantly reprimanding little Kiyoshi for either eating too fast or not eating fast enough, only to end up calling in the nanny to fix the problem and feed the boy properly.

Haruka often wondered why the woman had even bothered on having kids if she obviously didn't even like them in the first place. Yes, she knew that was what was expected from a young, healthy wife. But still. To her, everything seemed so fake and twisted and just… sad.

She refused to follow that. She couldn't care less for what society wanted out of her, and she knew she wouldn't marry someone just because the man promised a good allowance for her to buy clothes and shoes. For starters, she wasn't planning on depending on anyone. She wanted to be able to support herself by her own means, regardless of the fact that her parent's inherit and life insurance, along with her having a right to claim half of the family business the moment she turned of age, guaranteed her a nice, heeled future. She had dreams to follow, and she wanted to make someone of herself; someone other than a Tenoh, living off the great life while having done nothing to actually deserve such benefits and commodities.

And second, and just as important -if not more-, she refused to let society dictate her life, and she refused to be handed over to someone. She didn't care who she had to face and fight with, she would do so, with teeth and nails and every ounce of strength in her body if that meant spending the rest of her life with someone she was actually in love with.

God forbid she ever fell for a man with an unworthy job and background. Like a truck driver or a plumber…

She chuckled to herself at the thought, amused.

The truth was, she didn't really put that much thought into who she wanted to get married with. Unlike many girls her age, she wasn't aiming for a doctor, or a lawyer, or a five star business man. She wasn't even sure she wanted to get married; men were kind of boring, and the idea of restraining herself to a man's wishes and commands was just not her idea of a nice, good future to herself. But if she ever did find a man that wouldn't bore her to tears, she was sure she wasn't going to marry his job and money.

If the love bug ever found her, then she knew for sure, she was going to aim for the real thing.

"Racer girl," came a male voice from behind her, taking her out of her thoughts and making her turn around just in time to see a somewhat short man with shoulder length red hair and amethyst eyes. "Won any race yet?" he asked, teasingly, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Not yet," she answered him, smiling. "But I will. You just wait and see."

"Will do," he said, smiling. "I have my money on you, girl. So please don't turn me into a broke man."

She hit his arm at that, not fully able to fight off the chuckle that escaped her as he laughed.

She liked this guy.

Only a year away from his third decade, Shou Endo was a nice, down to earth, smart young man. Too bad he was already happily married and proud father of a cute little girl of two, and still saw her as a little girl as well…

Diploma in hand and freshly out of college, her father had seen something in him. A talent, a bright promise, a creative mind. And he had been right; after her parents died, Shou had been the one pretty much keeping the company afloat. Though creative and smart in his own right, her uncle was just not as good as his late brother and sister law. In return, her uncle was the one to go to when negotiations were needed. He was a brilliant business man, and together with Shou, they had not only been able to keep the company and its good reputation, but also expand their specter of clients, earning a rather impressive portfolio for the still young Tenoh Studio.

Orphaned at a young age himself, with only his mother in law as the only grown up, parenting role in his life, he had shared a special connection with her father, almost like a brotherhood. And, crushed after her parents died, he had offered her a shoulder to cry on, a willing ear to hear her out, and the occasional words of encouragement and comfort when needed. Probably because he understood better than her uncle what it felt like to lose both parents in such drastic, unexpected ways, but whatever the reasons, she found in him a good man and a good friend.

"Pulling an all-nighter again?" she asked, noticing the rather large cup he refilled after half finishing his first one.

"We're starting Mugen's third and last building in a week," he explained, rubbing the brick of his nose in a rather tired gesture, "and we have to go through everything again one more time for the engineer to give final approval…"

She frowned at that, curious. "But I thought that school was already opened and functioning," she said, as she went back to her vegetables, placing them over the cutting table and taking the knife.

"It is," Shou confirmed, "but the Meioh building is just more dorms, a gym and recreational center, and just… luxury. No reason to hold back the opening of school grounds for that. I'm sure students can live without a gym for six months."

"I'm sure they can," she said, chuckling lightly. But then she frowned. "The Meioh building?" she asked, again, curiously. "You named the buildings?"

"'Course," he answered, smiling as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "There's the Meioh building, the Kaioh building, and let's not forget, the Tenoh building."

"Kaioh, huh?" she asked, now kind of amused upon remembering her chance meeting with the aquamarine haired girl.

"The man's in charge of the construction," Shou provided, shaking a shoulder. "He wanted a building named after him…"

"Of course he did," she said, chuckling and shaking her head. Turning around an opening a cabinet, she looked for salt and olive oil for her salad. "And Meioh? Who's that?"

"Some wealthy scientist who was kind enough to offer a huge amount of money for the project," he answered, shaking an uninterested shoulder. He was in charge of designing the buildings and making the plans, not accounting. "Apparently, his daughter is already enrolled in there or something."

"I see. Sounds like an all-nighter to me."

"It most likely will be," Shou said, nodding his head. "It would be easier if Tomoe would allow us access to the basements, instead of making us go all around it…" he complained, trailing off. But he soon shook his head, offering her a tired, but still honest smile. "I know, I know. That's what I get for working for weird, eccentric people, right?"

She chuckled at him then. "All your clients are weird and eccentric," she pointed out. "Though the one that demanded an indoor pool shaped as a penis is definitively a winner."

He laughed at that, hard and loud. Putting his coffee on the counter just to avoid spilling it all over, as his deep, rich laugh filled the kitchen and she laughed along with him.

"Shit, I think I needed that," he mumbled, calming himself down a little. "The man was filthy rich and completely gay… and it was _his_ house, anyway…"

"Completely gay?" she repeated, chuckling again. "Why, is there such a thing as _not so gay_, gay people?" she asked, amused now. "Half gay? A quarter gay?"

"I don't think so, but, you know…" he said, shrinking his shoulders now. "There's gay people, and then there's really, really gay people."

"And by that you mean _weird_," she noted, arching an eyebrow. "There are weird straight people too, you know."

"Yeah. And I happen to know a bunch of those, too," he agreed. "Difference is, weird gay people are usually a whole lot funnier to be around than straight weird people," he then added, laughing again. "I mean, come on, a penis shaped pool? I seriously don't think any straight men out there would ever ask for a pool shaped as a breast…"

"Or a pussy?" she added for him, knowing that was probably what he wanted to say in the first place. And laughing when he blushed.

"Haruka," Shou scolded her.

"What? I'm not a kid anymore," she defended herself, chuckling. "Besides, you're wrong. Hugh Hefner totally would."

He blinked at her then. "I'm surprised you even know who that is," he admitted, blinking again.

"Everyone knows who he is," she pointed out. "And we have E! to thank for that."

He shook his head at that, taking a sip from his coffee and then refilling it again, obviously deciding not to continue that one conversation. Or maybe not wanting to acknowledge the fact that she was no longer the little girl he still saw her as. The man could be so sentimental at times…

But he kept quiet, and she went back to finishing her salad, adding a handful of sesame seeds and then mixing everything together with a fork and a spoon. Only the sound of his chuckling made her look up at him again, frowning curiously.

"You may look just like your mother," he said, smiling softly at her, "but the rest is all your father," he then added, pointing at her salad with his head, and then tapping a finger to her forehead.

She smiled at him then. Her heart doing a small jump inside her at such compliment. Shoving a leaf of lettuce into her mouth, she smiled widely at him. "Guess I have the best of them, then," she said, in a rather joking tone, just to avoid getting down the road of sentimental talk.

"You sure do," he agreed, nodding his head. "You have a sure spot on that academy, and you can claim it anytime. You know that, right?"

She rolled her eyes at him. She knew exactly what that academy was all about; she had known before the first building was even done. Her uncle's shouting matches through the phone with one Mr. Kaioh, the small talk during breakfast on those rare occasions when she actually saw him before he went to the office, and the occasional all-nighter he and Shou pulled when under pressure or behind schedule had made sure of that.

She knew all about the Delta project. A small city within the city, destined to only a very selected few -or so was the plan-, complete with a prestigious private school, college, offices, recreational areas, apartments for those who would work and study there, and even a bank. A rather pretentious, pompous project, in her opinion.

"I want to get out of here," she said, taking her salad and starting to make her way out of the kitchen, "but I'm not _that_ desperate."

"It's a good school."

"I don't need any more spoil brats around than the ones I already have," she said, knowing full well she didn't need to specify who she was referring to. "Don't stay up all night, and take it easy with that coffee," she advised, before walking out of the kitchen. "It's bad for your stomach."

"I already have a mother _and_ a wife," he joked.

"Want me to call either one of them?" she asked, teasingly. And then she just laughed when he narrowed his eyes at her for the split of a second, before simply laughing at her retreating form.

She made her way up the stairs two at a time and went straight to her bedroom, completely ignoring the yells and grunts coming from one of the closed doors, already knowing she didn't want to know what that girl was complaining about this time. Fishing into her bag, she took a small key out and unlocked the door, entering the room and then locking it again.

She wasn't exactly the paranoid kind, but she felt uncomfortable letting the door unlocked. She didn't quite like the housekeeper going through her stuff, even if it was only to clean up; she always made her own bed and cleaned after herself anyway, and she knew Masami would get in and rummage through her privacy if she had the chance. A one time incident, when she had came back into her room finding everything perfectly clean and in place except for the small little jewelry box where she kept her mother's gold hoop earrings, a pearl necklace and both her parents wedding rings had proven that. The box was small, and shaped as a heart, and it has been gifted to her when she was a little girl. She wasn't particularly keen on pink objects and heart shapes, or jewelry for that matter, but that one box had been the last thing her grandfather gave to her before passing away when she was six years old. She barely remembered the old man, but there was a sentimental value to that box where she safely kept her mother's only jewelry.

And upon finding the box placed over the vanity, on the exact same corner she had left it, but facing up front instead of to the side, she had known, someone has been there while she was out. By then, the housekeeper had stopped getting into her room to clean up, which only left one person that could have been there.

Two, actually.

She was not much of a 'dear diary' kind of girl, writing down her thoughts and feelings, but she knew, if she were, she would have to take her journal with her everywhere she went, just to make sure no unwelcome eyes would see it. So, she locked her door, so no one would get in when she was out, or when she was fast asleep. The latest was a rather creepy thought, but considering the woman she was trying to keep at bay, she wasn't going to rule anything out...

Getting out of her school uniform and into the dark gray wide legged lounge pants and white tee she used to sleep, she tied her hair up in a bun and opened the window. Taking a black worn out hoodie and throwing it on to prevent getting cold, as spring time had yet to come -though days were starting to get warmer already-, with her salad in hand, she stepped out into the roof.

Blocking away all and any sounds coming from the inside of the house, she sat down and crossed her legs, quietly eating her salad and gazing up into the night sky. There weren't many starts out tonight, probably because the city lights didn't let her see them. But she knew, the big white moon, shining brightly and proudly in the sky, was the real reason as to why the stars took second place.

Mindlessly chewing the tomato and lettuce she just shoved into her mouth, a low, shabby sigh escaped her, as she contemplated the bright new moon and that same strange, yet by now familiar feeling of... something... tugged at her heart. Just like it always did whenever her green eyes would lock with the bright white orb up there. It has always been there, that feeling, somewhere deep inside her, and she had always been fascinated by the white queen of the nights. And though that fascinating feeling was still there, that strange pulling kept on getting stronger.

It made her heart feel heavy. As if there was something missing.

Something important. Something that was intimately related to her, to who she was. To who she was meant to be.

"What is it that you want from me?" she asked, in barely a hushed whisper, with her green eyes glued to the moon.

She chuckled, shaking her head and looking down on her salad, shoving another fork-full into her mouth. The wind picking up around her, making the blonde lose strands around her face dance around, and she closed her eyes.

Sometimes, in nights like this, when it was so quiet out and it was nothing but her and the night sky, she could swear there were voices in the air. Whispers the wind brought with it. She knew how crazy it sounded, and she was perfectly aware of the fact that more than one psychiatric wouldn't even doubt on giving her a handful of pills. But she knew the voices, the whispers were there. She remembered hearing them when she was a child; just like right now, never really knowing what they were saying, but fully aware of the whispering all around her, in the wind.

And though she couldn't hear it clearly, never knowing what it was that those voices were whispering, sometimes it led her right back to the moon, and to whatever it was that was missing. And to her dreams. She wasn't really sure of how, but for some reason, she knew everything linked back to her dreams, to that woman bathed in shadows asking her to join her and help her stop the upcoming destruction.

What exactly did that woman mean, she didn't know.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know, either. For as highly as she liked to think of herself, and as strong and agile as she was, if those dreadful, horrible images in her dreams were the end result of that destruction, then she knew, whatever she was supposed to do to stop it, she couldn't do it alone.

She let out a sigh, pushing the remains of her salad aside and hugging her knees. Green eyes up in the bright white moon.

"I need a little help here."

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>So? Liked it? Hated it?

**petiyaka:** you should know better than to get greedy on me. I don't think I'd be able to keep up such pace for much longer… you know, deadlines, family, my mom's birthday coming up… life? That kind of things that keep me away from writing 24/7. And I'm still not back from my corner of shame (not by a long shot!). But I'll try my best not to disappoint you!

**ReaderMarz:** it wouldn't be a Haruka/Michiru story otherwise. But I'm afraid you're gonna have to keep on hoping a bit longer *hides*

**SeraEris:** I love you, babe. Just wanted you to know that!

**nomask:** well thank you! As I already said to my dear friend petiyaka, I'm not quite ready to leave my little corner of shame, but for every story I need the right kind of muse to come and visit me, so… here I am! And, yes, usually that's the case, since most people are more familiar with the anime. But Haruka does wear a lot of skirt and cleavage-showing shirts and tees in the manga (granted, not that much in the third arc, but a whole lot in the fourth and fifth. And I do mean *a lot*). But don't worry, I promise I won't turn her into a girly girl. I'll stick to tight pants, high heels and maybe a cleavage here and there. The skirt is only for when she's wearing her school uniform, which she doesn't really wear as a lady, anyway… Haruka wouldn't be Haruka without a little bit of attitude… lol! If you haven't read the manga yet, I would highly recommend you to do it, not only to get more familiar with the Haruka I'm trying to portrait here, but also so that you keep in mind little facts and details I'll be referring to as the story continues. Or not, and then you can just find out as I go. It's really up to you :P Anyway! I'm babbling, I know… thanks for reading, and thanks a lot for reviewing! Really appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>petiyaka: <strong>yes, I'm aware of such family values being deep into the Japanese culture. But, can you honestly picture Haruka having such dreams? And Naoko Takeuchi herself stated on the Collection Material that Michiru is the kind that can get by without a man. In case you didn't notice, I'm stubbornly and religiously taking things from those notes and the manga for this one. And they're not exactly on opposite clans (not making a Romeo and Juliet story here); their families' business are connected, but because of their particular stories/personalities, they don't take part on such activities, and so, they don't know each other. Of course that's soon to be changed; wouldn't be a Haruka/Michiru story otherwise, right?

**ReaderMarz: **yeah, I know. The strong, independent hardcore blonde would never ask for help. But I'm trying to show a possible different side to her here (the side I see), and it's not like she actually went out looking for someone to help her... I mean, the Moon by itself won't answer shit (trust me, I've tried! Lol!). Anyway! Glad to know you're enjoying this so far! Thanks for reviewing!

**stefanlucas:** hi there! *waves hand* Thanks for reading! I know this is probably an arrogant thing to say myself, but Shattered Hearts is quite possibly one of my best stories (my first little try from my corner of shame is definitively the other one). I really like how that turned out, and I'm quite happy with it *blushes*. Again, thanks a lot for reading, and for letting me know what you think!

**rsDragon:** thanks! I'm trying to come up with a plausible theory of why they are the way they are. Not just the bond they share, but everything around them. Like, how come they seem to be so rich, and why they have so much liberty and all. Glad to know you like my little theory so far! Thanks for reading!

**SeraEris:** yeah, I know. But saying it every now and then never killed anyone. More interaction will follow soon, promise!

Anyway! Here's a new chap! Hope it's not confusing or anything...

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><p><strong>5<strong>

After parking and locking her car, she started a small jog around the park, but soon decided for a detour, going to the riverside instead. It was nice and warm enough, and she figured some nice fresh air would do her good.

She has been thinking about going out for a nice, long run all morning. And after finally getting out of school, she all but jumped into her car, driving to a nearby small dinner to have a quick, light meal and change off her school clothes. Out of habit, she always kept her running shoes and clean training clothes in her car; she never knew when the running spirit would strike her, and she didn't want to worry about wearing inappropriate clothes and the consequential blisters that came with wrong kind of shoes for such activities.

After finishing her meal and paying the bill, she had went into the bathroom, carefully and neatly folding her skirt, shirt and tie, putting them in her bag and taking out her change of clothes. Black wide legged foldover pants, white racerback tee, and black and teal mockneck light jacket. Changing her socks and putting on clean ones, she then put on her running shoes and secured her hair in a ponytail before making her way back to the car, placing her bag in the trunk and driving off to the park she always went to for a good run near the bay.

The ten minutes jog to the riverside served as a light warm up, but she knew better than to start running off full speed, so she took it slow at first. Enjoying the fresh air hitting her face, the sun warming up her cheeks, she ran down the path, passing by the occasional couple enjoying the sunny day, people walking with their dogs, and cyclists. But she didn't pay them much attention, concentrating in her warm up, keeping a steady rhythm.

Even with the wind hitting on her face and her heart bumping into her ears, with the dogs' happy barks and people's laughs and voices, she could still hear those voices in the air. They were faint, almost like hushed whispers, but still there.

For some reason, the whispers were being notably insistent today. Or maybe she was just particularly sensitive to it. She had spent half the night tossing around in her bed, trying to get rid of strange dreams and images of destruction.

Something was calling out to her, and apparently, and whatever that was, it seemed to have had decided to do so at night. It was starting to get really frustrating, not knowing what it all meant -if it really did mean anything at all-, waking up in the middle of the night with terrible images dancing in her mind, and then laying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering where was it all coming from. Wondering if maybe she was finally losing her mind; the urgency in the woman in her dreams, the way she would constantly ask her to help her, the insistence in the whispering wind.

She knew she could easily be imagining it all.

And even if she wasn't, she had absolutely no idea of what to do to prevent such destruction. It often felt like a clashing of forces, like completely opposite energies fighting for dominance and survival. Darkness versus light. And as cliché as it sounded, if this coming darkness meant the end of all life, if it truly was the freaking apocalypse nearing in, then picking sides wasn't a problem, and she already knew which side she wanted to be in.

The only problem was, again, what to do.

She had nothing but vague feelings and visions coming to her in the form of dreams. But even if she had all the hard core information, she knew she couldn't exactly go to the authorities with this. Whatever 'this' was, she had the feeling that bullets, bombs and tanks wouldn't really help much. Not to mention the very real possibility of ending up locked up on some mental hospital with a nice straitjacket and drugged 'till stupidity while surely having her brains completely fried.

So, what to do?

'_Find the source,'_ came a whispering voice into her mind, clear as water.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Eyes wide opened and taking deep breaths, puffing the air out of her mouth and looking all around her, wondering where did that voice come from.

'_Uranus.'_

A frown came to her features at that.

Someone had called her that before.

In her dreams, people called her that. Or at least it felt as if they were referring to her…

'_You are Uranus,'_ came that voice again, as if answering her mental question. _'Princess of the winds.'_

_Princess, huh?_, she thought to herself, somewhat amused at the title.

Letting out a sigh and shaking her head, she sat down on the grass siding the path she had been running along. Legs crossed and back straight, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

_Alright, I'm listening._

.-.

A little girl sat down on a swing in the park. Her bright red eyes down casted, she contemplated her own small feet, hanging in the air.

"Mama," she whispered softly, brokenly, and to no one in particular, as she wondered, not for the first time, how was she supposed to help. Tears flooding her sad eyes, just waiting to fall down her young features.

"Kid," came a male voice from behind her, making her turn around and look up at the young, handsome man approaching her.

He asked her something, but she didn't listen. All she saw was the kindness in his deep blue eyes. Curious, and probably startled after her showing up out of nowhere, he was now kneeling down next to her and looking at her with such kindness in his eyes, it made her feel safe.

Lost, knowing she had nowhere to go, not knowing anyone and not really sure of what she was supposed to do, she jumped up to him, encircling her small arms around his neck, seeking for refugee. And he felt so warm, too. Protective, strong, gentle.

Just like her papa.

For some strange reason, being in this man's arms felt like home.

Meanwhile, at some hidden corner of that same park, the soft crying of a wonderfully played violin could be heard.

It was as soft as it was intense. Like the waves kissing the shore, always moving, always shifting, never the same, yet so similar in the way they reach their destination, only to retreat soon after. Like the waving ocean, the soft, intense music filled the afternoon air, not really breaking the quietness, yet making itself known by its alluring, almost bewitching tune.

It carried its player's every emotion with it, for whoever wanted to hear, for a passerby to read and interpret whatever they wanted into the soft, waving, intense music. And many were the emotions being poured out.

Fear, concern, confusion, longing, doubt, uncertainty.

With a raspberry colored cotton sweater dress hugging her every curve, black leggings covering her legs and suede mauve colored slouchy boots adding a good four inches to her height, aquamarine curls gently cascading down her back, eyes closed and slightly waving to her own music, Michiru played. Letting her fingers take her into another world; every feeling, every sensation being poured and taking life with her playing, with no filters, unable and unwilling to restrain herself, letting it all out instead.

Once more, as she moved the vow and caressed the strings, the fresh, dying autumn wind gently dancing around her, she could feel that mysterious woman's presence all around her. As if she was the wind itself, and was calling out to her.

But that was not the reason for the frown in her young, beautiful features. Not once interrupting her playing, she thought she felt something just a moment ago. Something odd, out of place. For the split of a second, she could have sworn she felt as if time and space were breaking, opening up. A disturbance of some sort that was not natural, and was not meant to be. And during that minuscule period of time, she could clearly perceived two completely opposite presences; one was soft, innocent, pure light, while the other was dark, menacing, filled with hatred.

It was gone as soon as it came, and she didn't know what it meant or where had it come from. But it was strong enough, and disturbing enough for her to know, she was not imagining things. And now she was left there, frowning and pondering on what could it mean.

_'They can manage,'_ came a whispering voice, reassuringly.

It was soft, soothing even. And somewhat familiar, and she frowned, opening her eyes. Not once stopping her moving fingers over the strings, she looked all around her, trying to find the source of that whispering, gentle voice.

She could now feel the ocean's salty scent in the air. It reached her nostrils and filled her every pore, making her heart jump up in her chest, welcoming the fainted -but still very, very real- ocean's presence and embracing it. And she couldn't help but wonder if maybe this new presence, more familiar, but still new and surprising at such place, had something to do with that odd feeling that had struck her before.

_'They fight to preserve the future,'_ came that voice again. _'But if the Silence is not stopped, there will be no future. Their efforts will be futile.'_

A shiver ran down her spine, forcing her to stop playing. Letting her arms fall down to her sides, she closed her eyes again, listening. Her frown never leaving her young features.

.-.

Nothing.

Barks, laughs, voices. The occasional and somewhat far off noises of cars and horns, the sound of the few boats out on the river. But no more whispers into her head. And she arched an eyebrow, telling herself she was really losing it and ready to get up and get back to her jog, when something flashed in front of her closed eyes.

A hood. A mop of white hair. A little girl's terrified scream. An upside down, black crescent moon mark, and an incredibly amount of evil energy oozing out of it.

'_They can handle them,'_, came that same whisper again.

_What?_, she thought, confused. _They, who?_

'_Your mission is different. You must stop the Silence.'_

She frowned at that. Green eyes flying opened and a frustrated low growl escaping her after nothing but silence followed. Well, that certainly wasn't helpful…

_'Uranus...'_

"What?" she all but growled, a bit annoyed by now. A tint of red coming to her cheeks when she realized she had said that out loud, and the few people around threw questioning glances her way.

Again, nothing but silence.

This was getting her nowhere, and giving up on her meditation and self-induced pseudo mediumship failed try, she let out yet another frustrated growl, moving to stand up, and vaguely wondering what that fat old man that called himself a therapist would say about this. Probably something among the lines of schizophrenia and a guaranteed prescription for antipsychotics…

But as she was just about to get up, hands at her sides and against the grass for impulse purposes, another set of flashing images hit her. It was so strong, so sudden, shaking her to her core, that she almost felt down on her back. A sharp intake of breathe escaped her, and her hands grabbed the grass tightly, as image after image flashed right in front of her mind's eyes.

It was the same terrifying flash she saw in her dreams. Destroyed buildings, dead people, horrible monsters. The silhouette of a woman with incredibly long, dark hair, standing on the top of a hill made of ruins and debris. A wicked, horrible laugh echoing all around, as the woman embraced the death all around.

And then there was that woman, the one that always asked her to help. Bathed in shadows, she could only guess long, waving hair behind her, a white leotard hugging her torso with a dark ribbon over her chest which color she couldn't tell, and a dark pleated miniskirt, dancing in the silent, almost dead like wind. She held what it looked like some kind of hand mirror in her hand, and though she wasn't quite sure because of the general darkness all around, it seemed as if this mysterious woman was staring right at her. Through her.

"_Uranus,"_ the woman called out to her; a clear hint of urgency in her whispered, barely audible voice, _"only we can stop this."_

_How?_, she asked, honestly lost. _Who are you?_

But as soon as the question crossed her mind, the visions were gone, and she found herself right in front of the riverside once more. She blinked, the brightness of the water reflecting the sun suddenly hurting her eyes after the surrounding darkness she had been thrown into, and a frown came to her face, disorientated for a moment.

'_The talisman,'_, came that whispering voice in the wind once more. _'Use your talisman.'_

_My what?_

She blinked, frowned, and then blinked again, when the suddenly natural volume of normalcy reached her ears, only now realizing it has been numb during her little exchange with… whatever that voice was. It almost felt as if she had been sucked into another level of consciousness and was now thrown back, and it made her feel misplaced for a moment.

Once the slight fog in her mind was gone, it was clear to her that whatever that whispering voice was and whatever else she needed to know –which, she guessed, it was probably a whole lot-, it was not going to offer any further explanation at the moment. Taking a deep breath, she moved to get up and off the grass, knowing she had already cooled off and would have to start her warm up all over again. Letting out a low sigh and lightly shaking her head, she turned around, making her way back to the park she had first went to, suddenly wanting and needing a slight change of air.

Running usually helped her ease her mind. Letting her legs carry her, concentrating only on the road ahead, with the wind in her hair and the sun in her cheeks. But as she made her way to the park and continued her warm up before finally taking off at her full, usual speed, she knew, it wouldn't really help this time. The whispered words wouldn't fade away into some corner of her mind, the shadowy image of the woman with the waving hair and the sailor like outfit wouldn't go away, and the echo of that evil laughter still resonated in her ears.

Still, she ran. More out of stubbornness than actual need and desire to exercise, she kept her pace up, embracing the now quiet wind around her, even if it didn't quite offer the usual easiness.

Still, she tried. Finally speeding off, going several times all around the park, she ran as fast as she could, which was actually really fast -by far, faster than most people. A set expression over her features and eyebrows arched in a frown, more out of the confusing mess in her head than because of the constant, steady effort her current physical activity would demand.

She knew she was missing the bigger picture here, and she wasn't particularly happy about it. Something was calling out to her, demanding her to take actions, to prevent this Silence from ever come to be and stop whoever -or whatever- was behind it from wiping life off the face of the earth, not really offering any explanation as to how exactly she was supposed to achieve such task in the first place and being frustratingly cryptic about the entire ordeal. Whatever it was she was supposed to do to stop it, she couldn't exactly get on it if she didn't know. And though she was sure she would want to go back to being blissfully unaware of such things once she did find some way to gain such knowledge, being in the dark like this was starting to get extremely irritating. And she needed to know.

In a vague attempt to clear her mind and make some sort sense out of the little things she did know, she kept on running down the path. Welcoming the half distracting activity, hoping that, maybe, exhausting her body would exhaust her mind as well.

She just hoped she had enough time to figure this thing out before it was too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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* * *

><p><strong>6<strong>

_'When your time comes, you must awake and fight, Neptune.'_

That had been the last, puzzling whisper reaching her before the voice finally died away. Leaving her there, standing in the middle of the gazebo and staring into nothing. Violin and vow on each hand, hanging from her frame, as the images of what was to come wouldn't disappear, even though the flashing moment of revelation was long gone.

Awake to what? And to fight what, exactly?

Yes, the Silence. And destruction, and the end of life. She already knew that; her dreams made that part perfectly clear. But she knew there was something behind it; some dark, evil force pulling all the strings. And she didn't know what that was, where was it coming from, or why was it looking to destroy the planet in the first place. The only thing she knew for sure, was that she was supposed to stop this from happening.

Placing her chin back over her violin, hoping its enchanting melody would once more take her away, she had been standing there for over an hour now. Trying her best to soothe her mind, and maybe try to make some more sense out of the chaos of images and whispers and feelings. Nothing made much sense, and she didn't have much to go by either. The clues were still too far off, too vague for her to trace down and place all the piece of the puzzle together.

As it was, she could do nothing but wait. For a moment of clarity, for a more clear vision, for a more revealing dream. Putting her violin back into the case, she let out a long, low sigh, closing the case and stepping out of the gazebo. A frown decorating her features, and a thoughtful expression upon her face as she made her way, slowly down the path, contemplating what she had seen and heard in that vision of hers.

There has been something different this time. The destruction, death and desolation all around, the dark woman. That was something she was slowly getting used to, for it was always there, in each and every dream she had about this approaching darkness. But this time, the mysterious woman from her dream the other night has been there as well.

Just like last time, she couldn't see her face or distinguish any particular features that could represent some sort of clue for her to follow. But she had recognized the outfit. That white leotard and the pleated miniskirt were exactly the same as the ones she had seen her wearing when she had seen the tall, mysterious woman standing up on that tree.

She shook her head, unconsciously tightening her grip around the case's handle. She needed to find a way to fully understand what was going on, what this awakening meant, and who that woman was. She needed to find a way to connect the dots.

She let out a sigh, lightly shaking her head and looking up. Her long curls dancing behind her as she did so, and her breath getting caught in her throat as her sea blue eyes landed on the long figure of one blonde girl.

Long legs covered in black and stretched out and together over the grass, she saw her reaching her arms out, hands resting on her feet as she bent over. She was obviously stretching out, considering the way she held her pose and then slowly raised up, only to repeat her actions once more. The easiness in which she did that, placing her hands on the insteps of her shoes with little to no effort, told Michiru the girl was not only rather used to doing this, but was also very flexible, and quite possibly in perfect shape.

The girl's next movement only proved that. The black and teal jacket was fitting enough to let Michiru guess how strong her arms were; not exactly muscular, but definitively shaped. Her wide pants, foldover hanging low on her hips, somehow made her look taller, accentuating her thin waist even more, and as she moved, Michiru could once again guessed strong legs.

Bending her knees up and placing both hands to her side for impulse, she saw her slowly moving her buttocks up, legs against each other and straightened, and her hands over her feet. And then sliding her left leg, spreading her legs and keeping both hands on the grass. Left leg straightened to a side, she bent her right knee, keeping the pose for a moment before switching to the other side, continuing her stretching.

She moved with such grace and easiness, Michiru found herself once more thinking what a great model she would make. And the blonde seemed to sense her eyes on her, because as that one thought crossed her mind, green eyes looked up and straight into her blue ones. And then, as she saw the blonde looking up, wild bangs falling over her forehead and framing her face, the strangest thought crossed her mind, replacing the previous one.

Short hair would suit her nicely. Perfectly, even.

She frowned at that, shaking her head and tossing that thought away. The blonde could dye her hair fluorescent pink, for all she cared. It was really none of her business…

She saw a flash of wondering surprise going through green eyes, blonde eyebrows coming together for the split of a second, before recognition seemed to drawn on her, and the blonde chuckled. Shaking her head and gazing away for a moment as she switched sides again, not once interrupting her stretching exercise.

"I'm starting to think you really _are_ stalking me," the husky, amused voice reached her ears, as green eyes looked into her once more.

"Funny," she said, arching an eyebrow. "I was just about to say the exact same thing."

"You're the one showing up on me," the blonde said, in a matter of fact tone.

"I always come here," she said, vaguely wondering why was she defending herself.

One blonde eyebrow went up, whether in question or in wonder, she wasn't sure, as the tall girl flipped to a side. Right foot in between her hands, right knee bent, and left leg stretched out and back, heel firmly on the grass as she stretch her calf muscles.

"Never seen you around before."

She frowned at that, getting exasperated and tired of the blonde's constant questioning and mocking. Yes, she had found her rather interesting just the day before, finding that same questioning disguised as small talk refreshing. And it was. But she was having a bad day already, and the blonde's questioning was rubbing her the completely wrong way today; she certainly didn't need some girl who didn't even know her questioning her every word and action.

She shook her head, willing herself to just drop this conversation and continue on her walk to the bus station. But as she took two steps forward and away, she changed her mind, turning back around and glaring at the stretching blonde.

"You don't even know me," she started to say, frowning at her. "You don't know the first thing about me. So please stop acting like you do, because whatever it is that you think you know about me is wrong," she said, firmly. "I'm not just another little crystal princess for you to mock and judge, Miss Tenoh."

She felt satisfied with herself after her little speech. She knew it was rather stupid, defending herself from whatever assumptions this girl has made of her. But it irked her, to know that she was being tagged and put under the same label as the spoiled little queen of the world wannabes she went to school with. And it sure felt good to vent out her frustrations and let the wind take them away, even if it was for only a moment, and even if the blonde had absolutely nothing to do with the real reason as to why she was so aggravated already.

But whatever reaction she was expecting from the blonde, it surely didn't include amused green eyes gazing up at her, and a sided, satisfied, knowing smile dancing on those lips.

"I know."

She blinked, actually surprised at such short, honest answer. "What?"

The blonde's smile widened just a little, as she slowly switched positions, now stretching her right leg out. Taking her sweet time to answer her, before finally looking up again. A light, obviously amused chuckle escaping her as she did so.

"I know," she said again. "And the name is Haruka," she then added, reminding her her given name, though there was no real need to. "You play the part to perfection," she said; amused green eyes shining in the sunlight, "I'll give you that. But I'm not buying it."

Again, she blinked, just standing there and staring at her. A part of her vaguely wondered if her masks were starting to get old and people were now able to see right through her.

"Let me guess," the blonde said, as she switched legs one more time. "You go to a prestigious, elitist private school because daddy sent you there, and you play the part, but you don't really fit in," she said, as once more that knowing smile came to her lips, surprising Michiru to no ends with her strangely accurate words. "You go shopping for shoes and dresses to go to parties and be mommy and daddy's little pride and joy, being all smiles and battling your eyelashes to young, handsome men that oh so nicely ask you to honor them with a dance," she said, in an openly mocking tone as she said that, "but marrying off to some potentially or already rich man is not your one and only goal in life," she straightened up just enough to rest her hands on her knees, looking straight into her blue eyes and tilting her head slightly to a side. "You want to play the violin," she added, pointing at her case with her head, and smiling yet again when she simply blinked at her. "Unless of course you only play because daddy thinks it's a proper instrument for such young fine lady, regardless of you being any good at it or not, and everything I just said is completely wrong."

She tilted her head to a side then, now kind of amused at the girl's -not exactly accurate, but not completely far off either- assumptions. "It's amazing how you can go from being indifferent to being nice, and then jump right into being arrogant, all in less than a minute," she noted, offering an arrogant, yet still polite smile of her own.

"It's an acquired ability," Haruka said, not in the least offended. "So tell me, Michiru," she said, not once doubting on calling her by her first name, obviously not caring for etiquette and manners, "am I close?"

"Close enough," she admitted, slightly nodding her head.

"I see," the blonde said, as once again that sided, cocky smiled came to her lips, and she stood to her full height, hands on her hips. "Not once did I think of you as yet another little crystal princess. Or at least, I hoped you wouldn't be," she said that last part in a rather admitting, kind of sheepish tone. "Like I said, you play the part nicely, but I never really bought it."

"How come?" she asked, curiously now.

"For one, little spoiled brats wouldn't go to a public library even if their life depended on it," she pointed out, rightly. "It's too vulgar and filled with low lives for them to grace such a place with their presence."

"Never mind the fact that said low lives are usually there to study and improve themselves," she put in, arching a disapproving eyebrow at the choice of adjectives, though fully aware of the fact that that was what people in her social status thought of anyone and everyone who wasn't on their same level.

"Why bother studying, if daddy can always buy a ticket to college?" the blonde said, in a rather mocking tone, as she stepped out of the grass and into the path, standing next to her.

They silently agreed to start walking together. Michiru holding her violin case to her chest as the tall blonde next to her buried her hands in the zipped pockets of her jacket. The fact that she was strolling down the park with a girl she just met and barely knew not escaping her, yet for some reason the thought didn't bother her.

"I see you have strong opinions."

"And by that, I take you mean I actually _have_ opinions of my own."

She nodded her head, silently agreeing with the blonde's guess. "So why the questioning, mocking tone?" she inquired, for some reason, feeling more relaxed around the tall girl. "If you never thought of me as another little spoiled…"

"Brat," Haruka offered when she hesitated.

Not one to use contemptuous adjectives, Michiru simply nodded her head. "Why making it seem as if you did? Why the testing?"

The blonde seemed to consider her answer for a moment. "You stared," she finally said, in that low, husky voice of hers, with a hint of thoughtfulness to it.

She frowned at that, not understanding the answer. Curious blue eyes gazing up into green ones, and the blonde just shrugged.

"Yesterday," Haruka offered. "Most people would have budged. You didn't."

Again, she frowned. "And that was enough for you to know I'm not just another poor little rich girl?"

"A brat," the blonde insisted, chuckling amusedly. "A spoiled, pompous brat. You can say it. I promise I won't tell on you," she teased, chuckling yet again when a light, soft giggle escaped Michiru's lips, and then shaking her head, deciding to drop the subject. "It was a sign, yes," she then said, answering her previous question. "You speaking up for yourself and standing your ground just now was another. And let's not forget, you're still talking to me."

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, out of curiosity to what the tall girl would say more than anything, as she knew, most people wouldn't even bother to talk to someone they barely knew.

"Because I'm the girl you ran into on a public library?" Haruka answered, frowning both in mirth and in askance. "The one I'm sure you know goes to a public school, prefers the park over an exclusive gym, and is not exactly wearing brand clothes?"

She nodded her head, vaguely and slightly, understanding the girl's point. Not that she would ever judge someone by the school they went to, whether or not they preferred a park over a closed doors gym, and the lack of designer clothes. Though she was sure, most people she knew surely would. But she was not most people, and she also happened to be quite aware of the fact this particular stranger was a Tenoh. And Michiru knew, the blonde's school, outfit and preferences on where to hang out were not directly linked to her family's economical and social status, for that was surely not a problem.

If anything, all these little facts made the blonde a curiously interesting character.

"Your Nike shoes say different," she noted, arching a teasing eyebrow.

"My Nike shoes answer to a very specific purpose."

"I figured that much," she acknowledged, nodding her head.

They fell into a strange, yet comfortable silence, continuing their journey out of the park. And as they reached the entry door and went across the street, she was ready to say her goodbyes and go on her way, until the blonde's next question stopped her.

"Need a ride?"

She blinked, honestly surprised at the offer. "No, it's ok," she declined, "I'm taking the bus."

Blonde eyebrows went up at that, and Haruka chuckled again. "Proof number four," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"I didn't know I needed to prove myself to you."

"You really are something else, did you know that?" she said, choosing to ignore her comment and simply smiling at her instead. A sparkle shining in those green orbs, a mix of intrigue, satisfaction and mirth, as she winked at her. "Come on, I'll drive you," she insisted, taking her hands out of her pockets; a set of keys in her hand as she did so. "You can text one of your friends and tell them you're with me," she then offered, "so that if anything happens to you, the entire world would come and hunt me down in the blink of an eye."

She hesitated for a moment, tilting her head to a side and chewing on the inside of her cheek as she contemplated the proposal, and the tall girl pointed the alarm button to some point behind her. The sound of a car being unlocked followed the action, and Michiru turned around; blue eyes tracking down the sound to a silver Mercedes parked right behind her.

She blinked, quite surprised. She wasn't exactly lectured on cars, but she knew, convertible Mercedes were usually not targeted to teenagers...

With the car now unlocked, Haruka opened the passenger door and looked up at her. The question lingering in her eyes as she waited for her to make up her mind, casually leaning her forearm against the opened door. A small, satisfied, sided smile coming to her lips when Michiru finally gave up on her mental argument.

Yes, she barely knew this girl, but something inside her told her she could trust her.

And she did. Lightly shaking her head, she got into the car, gently placing her case over her lap and then waiting for the tall blonde to go around the car to the driver's side, getting in herself.

"I take it the car answers to a very specific purpose, as well," she said, in a rather teasing tone, unable to keep one eyebrow from going up.

The blonde chuckled, taking a brown leather case resting over the dashboard and producing a pair of aviator Ray Ban. "'Course," she said, grinning. "And it also makes me look good," she added, winking at her before placing the sunglasses over her eyes.

She giggled at the charming cockiness, shaking her head in amusement and giving the needed directions, as the blonde started the car and drove off down the street. The sided, cocky smile never leaving Haruka's features, and Michiru couldn't help but notice how it seemed to fit her, giving her an air of self confidence that would easily strike her as arrogance on anyone else. And yet, on her, it didn't quite seem like a sign of arrogance but more like a personally treat, as if it was only normal for the tall girl to be this confident, this strong willed and minded.

"It's a nice car," she granted, smiling.

"It was my father's," came the husky, casual comment.

And the second Michiru heard it, she knew, the collected, unemotional way in which she had delivered the words was fake. The slight change in the tall girl's tone and the ghost of a melancholic smile tugging at her lips before she pushed it off was enough for her to know that.

It explained a lot of things.

She met Masami Tenoh last summer, at a tea party her mother had taken her to during one of her sporadic -and always short- stays in town. She didn't know Daiki Tenoh personally, and she had absolutely no idea of what the man looked like, so assuming the blonde had taken her father's look wasn't such a wild guess. But having met Mrs. Tenoh, sharing tea and pastries with her and hearing her talk about how much she had enjoyed some fashion show or another, and then spending the better part of an hour discussing which kind of dress would complement her figure better, Michiru knew, there was absolutely no way that woman was the blonde's mother. Even forgetting the fact that she was too young to be the mother of a teenager, she knew Mrs. Tenoh was too much of a proud, egocentric woman to ever send her daughter to a public school. Which had been the reason behind Michiru's surprise upon finding the blonde's name.

It just didn't fit.

But Haruka's words and expression just now, even if she was disguising it, offered her the last piece of the puzzle regarding the blonde's family. The news of Haruto Tenoh's tragic accident when flying on a private jet along with his wife had made it to national news, and although she had been barely thirteen back then, she remembered hearing and reading about their deaths, and her own father saying something about what a sad, tragic end it was for such a good, talented, brilliant man.

That one occasion had been, quite possibly, the first and last time she heard her father saying kind, amiable words about someone without that someone actually being right in front of him.

A pang of sadness stroke her then, knowing the tall, blonde girl had lost both her parents so abruptly, while still being so young. And she frowned, looking down at her own hands tightly grabbing her case, suddenly not knowing what to say.

"So," the blonde started to say, saving her from having to say something herself after such -surely unwilling- revelation, "how long have you been playing?" she asked, turning to look at the case resting on her lap for a moment, before turning back to look up front.

"Since I was eleven," she answered, "after a nice old lady in Italy gifted it to me," a soft, small smile came to her lips at the memory, but it was soon replaced by a curious frown as she looked up at some point of the portion of the afternoon clear sky she could see. "I think she was either senile or honestly didn't know how much it's worth, otherwise I doubt she would've ever gifted it away like that..."

"Why? Is it expensive?" Haruka asked, curiously.

"It's the Marine Cathedral," she offered, wondering if the blonde knew what that meant. And judging by the frown in her face, she didn't. "A Stradivarius? Made in 1721?"

"Oh, ok," the tall girl said softly, nodding her understanding. "So it's worth a lot."

"Around ten million dollars."

"What?" the blonde exclaimed in a surprised yell, turning to look at her through her sunglasses so abruptly, Michiru thought it was a miracle she didn't lose control over the car. "And you carry that around?"

"Yes?" she said, giggling softly at the blonde's dumbstruck expression. "I guard it with my life."

"Yeah!" she exclaimed again, still in awe. "Holy... My God!" she exclaimed, shaking her head, and then chuckling when Michiru giggled again at her. "Please tell me you're good," she then said, taking advantage of a red light to turn to look at her. "I mean, really, _really_ good."

"I think I am," she said, modestly.

"You _think_?" one incredulous blonde eyebrow going up as she said that.

Tilting her head to a side and throwing modesty out the window, she couldn't help the small, proud smile from coming to her lips. "Good enough to be the leading violinist at the Metropolitan Orchestra."

Though the dark lenses wouldn't really let her see, Michiru could swear she saw green eyes blinking up at her. "The Metropolitan, huh?" Haruka mumbled, nodding her head. "Impressive."

There was a certain edge to the blonde's husky voice as she said that, a surprised yet approving undertone, that made a light blush rush to her cheeks. She didn't know why, but for some reason, the blonde's approval seemed more real and meant more to her than whatever her fellow musicians at the Orchestra, or even the director himself had ever said to her.

"Thank you," she said, lightly vowing her head. "I worked hard to get there."

"Nicely done," the blonde said, nodding her head and turning back to look up front as the light turned green again. A curious frown coming to her strong, yet delicate features as she did so. "Is that Takahashi guy still part of it?"

She turned to look at her at that, a curious frown of her own mirroring the one on Haruka's features. "You know him?"

"Ran into him once or twice, yeah," she said, as she guided the car into the Sacred Heart International School's campus. "I'm surprised he still holds that position."

"What do you mean?" Michiru asked, curiously. "He's a fine pianist."

"Only if you think a step above average is 'fine'," the blonde pointed out. "He's ok, but he's not good enough to really be there. And he only got that position because the director's first choice declined."

One aquamarine eyebrow went up at that. "And how would you know that?"

A deep, husky chuckle escaped the tall girl as she parked the car at the entry door of the main building, pulling from the handbreak and taking her sunglasses off, as she turned to look at her. "Let's just say I was there."

She blinked, not really needing to ask what she meant by that, and actually surprised at the small revelation. It was amazing how many different faces this girl in front of her seemed to have. And as she wondered how many more sides there were to her, she blinked again, staring into amused green eyes. But before she could ask or say something, the blonde seemed to decide to change the subject entirely.

"I'll probably be at the library tomorrow. I promise to be nice if you decide to invade my little isle again."

"_Your_ little isle?" she asked, arching a teasing eyebrow at her.

The blonde shook a shoulder, nonchalantly. "No one ever goes into that isle, so yeah, I claimed it to myself a while ago," she offered. "You're welcome to join me, if you want."

She smiled at that. "I'll see if I can make the time, then," she said, slightly nodding her head. "Thank you for the ride."

"No problem."

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Haruka," she said, extending her hand.

Tilting her head to a side, her long blonde ponytail brushing her shoulder as she did so, the tall girl looked at her for a moment, before that sided smile of hers came back to her lips. "Pleasure was all mine, Michiru," she said, taking her hand and shaking it.

She looked into those shining green eyes for a moment, wondering what it was about this girl that made her feel so at ease. She hardly ever felt this comfortable around people, and yet something told her she could be herself in front of the tall girl. For some odd reason, she just trusted her.

"I'll see you around," she said, retreating her hand and opening the door, stepping out of the car.

"Sure," was the husky reply that reached her ears, before she saw the blonde putting her sunglasses on again and bringing the car back to life, hitting reverse and taking off.

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>Marine Cathedral is the name of Michiru's violin in the manga, which it is said to be worth 4 million. But! Wikipedia says a Stradivarius named the "Lady Blunt", made in 1721, was sold at an action for 15.9 million dollars, which is pretty much market value for such violins nowadays. Since Michiru's violin doesn't actually exist (obviously), I'm taking Lady Blunt here as reference.

There's a note provided by Naoko Takeuchi from her first sketches of both Haruka and Michiru, where she provides blood type, age, birth date and zodiacal sign (which, btw, it totally annoys me when authors based their stories on either the manga or the anime, but make them 17 or 18 years old... they're both 16 when they first show up! Ok... sorry, off track..). In that note, she states that Haruka is a sophomore in Crossroads Senior High School, while Michiru, also a sophomore, goes to S.S. Private Girls School. I'm assuming this is before them going to Mugen and getting on the whole undercover mission. I have no idea what 'S.S.' stands for, but for some reason, making Michiru go to a catholic boarding school felt right to me, and the Sacred Heart is an actual school in Tokyo. And in many, many other countries... including here! Only, it's called Sagrado Corazón here -which is actually nearby from where I live. Horrible uniform, btw. But it's the same congregation. I went to a (former but no longer) all girls school myself, Our Lady of Mercy, which used to be a boarding school (and that's why the school's so HUGE!). But I'm not sure if any other school from the congregation still goes under the 'all girls boarding school' tag, so... besides, I had enough Rosello to last me a lifetime (her portraits are all so... creepy... and all those stories about her heart still being intact? Creepy!). Didn't want to put Michiru through _that_...

I'm babbling again. Anyway! I'm taking a few liberties around the little loops here and there. Still sticking to the manga, though! Promise!

.

**petiyaka:** true, I don't know much about running. An injury on my left knee and the consequential lost of resistance when I was 12 made me drift away from sports for good (you know, broken dreams and all that crap). But yeah, I do know you're not supposed to have a full stomach before doing any exercise; makes you heavy and sick. But doing so with a completely empty stomach is not good either, since it can lead to stupid little incidents (like, I don't know, fainting) that could be prevented if you put a little something into your stomach that won't satiated your hunger at all but will keep your stomach from painfully and constantly reminding you of its emptiness. Nothing too 'heavy', of course. Definitely not a sandwich. I was thinking more along the lines of a cereal bar or something like that. And I know this guy that goes out running early in the mornings, and he always eats a cereal bar before heading out, and only has a full, complete breakfast after coming back (and taking a shower, or so I'd like to think... lol). And he's a traumatologist, so I'm kind of assuming he knows a thing or two? But then again, he's a man, and men tend to be kinda stupid at times... lol! Sorry if I got it all wrong though, I kinda went with what I know, which is pretty much the basics; warm up, train, cool off, stretch. On that note, am I the only one that thinks our lovely blonde doing that last part is hot? (does that mean I'm a perv? That was rhetorical, don't answer! I always liked watching ppl stretch... I'm weird, I know...)

**SeraEris: **I'm spoiling you too much...

**glamu17: **you know, for some reason, I wasn't really expecting such a response on this story. Specially considering a previous story that's kinda like this one but anime based didn't really got that much attention, and I haven't published any H/M story in a long while... so I'm thrilled! *rolls around like a happy puppy*. So thanks a lot for reading, for reviewing, and for the favs! :D

**stefanlucas: **you mean towards each other, or in general? Am I making them seem too cold? Towards each other, that's gonna change in time. Hope this helps to make them take that road *smirks*. You know, I remember someone saying once that they shouldn't read my stories at work or early in the mornings... something about them getting... carried away? Lol! But as long as your boss doesn't see you, I guess you're safe for a while longer! Hahahaha!


	7. Chapter 7

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>7<strong>

The girl sitting next to her on the bench kept on babbling about the red little bustier she just got for her planned romantic weekend with her latest boyfriend, and she just nodded her head absently. Tsubaki was soon becoming a high society easy slut. With only fifteen and already such a record, she highly doubted it would be easy for the girl to find herself a respectable husband when the time arrived, and she seemed to be either happily unaware of that fact, or she honestly didn't care.

But then again, she didn't particularly mind. Tsubaki was a beautiful young girl, but her bedroom record alone -which was soon becoming one of those widely known best kept secrets everyone talked in hushed whispers about- crossed her off the potential competition list. Besides, her father was the vice president of one of the biggest metallurgy industries this side of the world. Being friends with the slutty girl was a must, and she didn't particularly mind as long as said girl didn't cross her.

And everyone in Sacred Heart knew better than to cross her.

The sound of a car driving in caught her attention, and she looked up just in time to see a silver Mercedes parking next to the main building's entry door, a good hundred and something feet away from where Tsubaki and her were sitting. The distance alone wouldn't let her hear the conversation or take a good look at the driver; the reflexion of the sun over the windshield only getting in the way even further. She could barely distinguish blonde bangs and dark sunglasses.

She made a quick mental search, trying to figure out who could it be behind the wheel. But when no name came to mind, she frowned, intrigued. And the sight of one particular aquamarine haired girl stepping out of the car and smiling in an awfully sweet manner before shutting the door only fueled her curiosity.

Was Kaioh seeing someone? And even more importantly, who could that someone be?

Raising her palm up, she shut Tsubaki in mid sentence, standing up from the bench and walking up to the violinist wannabe, as she was now making her way up the small set of stairs and into the building.

"Kaioh, hi!" she greeted, plastering her best, famous captivating smile over her face as she did so.

Blue eyes turned to her. One eyebrow slightly twitching, as the girl turned around to face her, surely out of politeness' sake, as she seemed to be openly uninterested in her and whatever she wanted to say.

And she forced herself to count to ten, biting the remark that was just dying to slip her lips. What was it with this girl? What reasons did she have to think so highly of herself? Everyone knew her mother was a -well past her golden years- party girl, and her father didn't even bother on pretending like he cared about the wife and daughter. Sure, the man was rich to the bone, and this girl was the sole heir to a fortune. But that didn't make her any less of a loser...

"Yes, Iwasa?" Kaioh acknowledged her, in that annoying little voice of hers.

Maintaining the smile and keeping herself from slapping this girl was proving to be a rather harder task than what she would have thought. But she willed herself to do it, dismissing Kaioh's air of indifference.

"Would you like to come and sit with us?" she asked, in her best friendly tone. "We're over there, just..."

"I'm busy right now," the girl said, interrupting her mid sentence. "But thank you for the kind offer."

_Stupid little frigid..._, she growled mentally. Couldn't she at least pretend to be normal?

She shook her head, quickly composing herself from the blown off. "Who was that in the car?" she asked, bluntly.

Kaioh turned to look back down the path the Mercedes disappeared into. A soft, small smile playing in her lips as she stared into nothing for a moment, and then looking back at her.

"A friend," was all she said, before turning back around to the building and making her way up the stairs.

And she stood there, blinking after the girl. A frown slowly but surely forming in her beautiful young features.

Kaioh didn't have any friends. Everyone knew that. She was a loner, and a loser. And yet here she was, showing up on campus, stepping out of a Mercedes she was sure did not belong to her father. And that blonde sitting behind the wheel was definitively not a driver.

A small, self secure smile came to her lips, and black eyes narrowed just so. Kaioh was seeing someone, and she was going to find out who that was.

.-.

He put the phone back on its holder and went back to the papers in front of him. A deep frown on his aging, but still quite handsome face, as he once more contemplated his decision. He would make absolutely sure to take all the needed precautions, and for everything to go exactly as he wanted for the test; before, during, and after. Well, the after wasn't one hundred percent up to him. But if one little thing went out of plan, then he would definitively and resolutely call the entire thing off and never discuss about it ever again.

Yet, he hesitated.

The music playing on the radio reached him from the opened door of his office. Unless he had an important call or business meeting of some sort, he rarely closed his door. A little habit of his, to make sure he knew what was going on out there, even if he was drowned in papers and contracts and blueprints. Years on the job had taught him how to pick up and distinguish the different sounds that would reach him, and he knew she arrived the minute she walked in.

Not because of the sound of a wrench falling to the floor and a rather colorful curse following, as Shirou had probably just hit himself against something. And though him welcoming her in and her mocking answer to the kid surely confirmed his suspicious, he always knew when she walked in.

He could always recognize her because of the way she walked. Stumbling and clumsy when she first started. Eager and jumpy as she got more confident. Fast and resolute as she got older, evolving to firm, strong and confident in the last couple of years. A walk he had seen and heard many, many times before, all the way through adolescence and into adulthood.

He was sure she didn't know, but she walked just like her father.

Letting out a sigh, and sending one last look towards the papers on his desk before finally pushing them to a side, he got off his chair, walking to the opened door and taking a look into the shop. And sure enough, there she was. Dressed in her training clothes instead of her school uniform -he guessed she was coming from the park, where she had surely killed some time until she had to come here, while going on one of those long runs of hers-, rolling her green eyes at Shirou as the kid tried, once again, to come up with a pick up line, and Takumi's laughter reaching them all from under a red Nissan the twenty three year old was working on.

"Don't let appearances fool you, Shirou," he advised to the kid, resting his shoulder against the door frame. "She may not look or act like one, but she _is_ a Tenoh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, arching a questioning, offended eyebrow his way, hands on her hips.

"Yeah," Shirou asked, frowning too. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means she's supposed to date and marry some rich guy," Takumi offered, peeking out from under the car, and then laughing again when the blonde narrowed her green eyes at him. "Isn't that so, Kuro?"

"Something like that," he agreed, chuckling too at the now annoyed looking teenage girl.

"I'd rather date _him_," she grunted, pointing at Shirou.

"Should I take that as a yes, then?" Shirou asked, smiling hopefully to the blonde.

"Forget it, kid," Takumi said. "You don't stand a chance. Me, on the other hand…" he trailed off, obviously in the right kind of mood to teas the kid.

"You're too old for her!"

"Get back to work, you two," he said, in a tone strong enough to stop any in coming argument that, he knew, could go on forever with these three. "Those cars ain't getting fixed by themselves."

An echo of yes sir's followed, and he nodded his head, satisfied, as his employees got back to work and nothing but the music coming from the radio and tools being either picked or thrown into the toolboxes filled the air once more. One tall blonde girl turning on her heels, ready to go to the locker room to get changed.

"Haruka," he called out to her, making her stop in her tracks. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok," she said, nodding her head. "Just let me…"

"Now," he insisted, stepping back into his office and sitting down on the chair again, knowing his tone alone would let the girl know she could change and get to work later.

He looked up again just in time to see her walking in. A barely visible -though still there- frown upon her young features, and a curious look in her green eyes. She was probably wondering if she was in some sort of trouble. Her curiosity soon turning into concern when he asked her to close the door behind her and then pointed to one of the chairs for her to take a seat on.

"Something wrong?"

He let out a sigh at that, resting against the back of his chair. Elbows on the armrests, hands supporting his chin as he studied her.

That was a good question. Because something must be definitively wrong with him for ever agreeing to this…

The rookie circuit wasn't usually as demanding and pressing when it came to rules. Finding an opening wouldn't be hard; a call or two, and maybe calling in a favor, and he knew things would go his way. And if she was serious about wanting to get on the amateur league, which she would be able to once she turned sixteen, then going through the rookie circuit first would certainly serve as a good experience.

"I want you on the tracks on saturday at ten," he said, rising up his palm in the air, stopping her from saying anything at all the moment he saw green eyes going wide opened in pure excitement. "It's not a race," he warned. "Not a real one, anyway. Take it as a test," he continued, vaguely waving his hand. "For you to get the feel of a racing car, and for me to see if you're any good," he explained, frowning when she didn't budge at his warning tone, continuing to smile and nod that blonde head of hers. "To see if you've got what it takes. And if you don't, you're out. No arguing, no more talking about this, no nothing. Got it?"

"Yes."

"I mean it," he insisted, wanting to make himself clear. "If I say you're out, you're out, and that's it."

She nodded her head one more time. Her obviously happy smile never fading as she tilted her head slightly to a side. "As long as you promise to be honest and won't say I suck just because you don't want me there," she said.

He chuckled at that, nodding his head. Yes, she really was just like her father; not an easy one to fool. Not at all.

Of course he didn't want her there. There were always risks, no matter how many precautions and security measures they would all take.

He was not exactly the fatherly kind, and the wide specter of human emotions was really not his area of expertise. But he had cared for his friend, and he cared for this girl. He had seen her grown inside her mother's belly, seeing the happiness and excitement on his friend's eyes. He had first seen her when she was barely a few minutes old, safely cuddled in her mother's arms. He had seen her grow and become the strong, independent teenage girl she was now. Maybe a little too independent, and surely quite stubborn when she really wanted something.

She was the closest thing to a daughter he had, and the last link to his late friend. And he knew he would never forgive himself if anything should happen to her. But because she was so much like her father, Kuro knew, there was no way anyone could talk her out of this idea of hers. And at least this way, he could keep an eye on her, making sure no one would take advantage of her given the hypothetical case she did, in fact, turn out to actually be any good.

Vultures were everywhere, and newbies always made perfect, unsuspected victims for them to fill their pockets with…

"Fair enough," he agreed.

Her smile widened at that, obviously satisfied. "Who am I racing against?" she asked, curiously. "You said it's not a real race, but it's still a race, right?" she guessed. "So, who am I racing against?"

"Fuchida," he answered, carefully studying her expression.

Again, she didn't budge. She just stared at him. "You want me to lose, Matsumoto?" she asked, in a rather teasing tone, after a moment of silence.

"It's not a real race," he insisted. "He'll be there to test the new engine, and you'll be there to get a hand on things. Being out there with at least one more car would give you a better idea of how the real thing actually is," he explained. "It doesn't matter how fast your car is or how well you can hold on to that wheel. If you can't keep in count the other cars around you, you'll never make it, and you will lose. Or worse."

"I know."

"Good," he said, nodding his head, and taking her resolute stubbornness as a good sigh. At least this one time. "Keep that in mind. And stop calling me Matsumoto, already," he then added, massaging the bridge of his nose. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Sure thing, pops."

"Don't call me that, either," he warned, eying her. "Now go, get to work already."

She nodded her head then. Her blonde bangs falling to her face as she did so, and that happy, wide grin of hers never leaving her features, as she got up from the chair.

"Remember," he said, before she could open the door and walk out of his office. "Saturday, ten AM. Sharp."

"I'll be there."

"Good."

The sound of the door opening up reached him, along with the louder sound of the radio and the shop's typical noise. But he easily brushed it off, taking the blueprints he had previously pushed to a side, ready to get back to work, when a husky voice made him look up into soft green eyes again.

"Thank you, Kuro. This means a lot to me."

He took a deep breath at that, letting it out slowly. "I know," he said, slightly nodding his head. "Now off!" he said, waving his hand for her to leave already. "Go fix a car or two."

She chuckled, grinning widely and raising a hand to her forehead, making a salute. "Got it, pops!"

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><p>Sorry for the shorty! *hides*<p>

And sorry for the delay. I'm in the middle of a project in class, and got a deadline to meet, so I don't think I'd be able to update again until next week. But my ass is on the line here; this is the one project no one can fail or out you go, which pretty much means I've been working my ass off for 8 months for nothing if I don't pass, I'll lose a whole year and will have to take this class again next year (which I don't want to, 'cause I totally hate it...). Anyway! I'm kinda busy with that, so again, sorry for the delay!

Hope this wasn't too confusing... and, I'm so happy you guys are liking this so far! *dances around* Thanks a lot!

**petiyaka:** thanks for the mental image... lol! Yeah, ppl still use those here in the summer. But it's not even spring yet on this fic, so... we don't want that cute ass of hers to get cold, now do we?

**ReaderMarz: **glad to know you noticed it was the same park! Lol! And I have plenty of time to be mean... *evil grin* A little bit of drama never killed anyone (and it makes a good story!)

**stefanlucas:** I think what Takeuchi meant is that they are not like Usagi (and by extension, the rest of the Inners). While the Inners go around making friends and being a cheerful bunch, Haruka and Michiru (and Setsuna too), are nice and polite and all that, but don't trust that easily, let alone open up to others. They can talk to someone and make acquaintances, but don't really make friends that easily. At least that's how I see it *shrugs*

**miharu:** sorry to disappoint you, but Haruka wanting to run away from her destiny was anime, and this all manga based. Sure, she'd be running away from her uncle's wife and daughter, and few other things here and there, but not from her destiny as a Senshi

**kyupak:** sama? Geez, you're making me blush...

**FaintFiction:** not so sure about the fantastic part, but I'm glad you're enjoying this!

**AlterEgoErin:** I know they're both lesbians, but I'm trying to make them the way I see them. Meaning, it' not like they'd go for any woman out there. Neither of them are interested in anyone, and only have romantic interests and are attracted to each other (did that make sense?...)


	8. Chapter 8

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>8<strong>

She walked back into her dorm, untying the ribbon around her collar and already unbuttoning her shirt, checking on her wristwatch, only now realizing she had spent a little over two hours at the school's art studio.

There was a show coming up in a month, and her art teacher had insisted for her to participate. It wasn't a big deal, just a school's show on some gallery down town, surely to show parents and a society figure or two what young ladies had to offer as delicate, sensitive creatures. It was kind of frustrating, to think they all took art so lightly and thought of it as nothing but a nice, tasteful way to decorate walls and rooms. But she knew it could open a few doors for her, being held at a gallery instead of school grounds; the promise of something more than just a silly little school show coming out of it was there, and she was going to take it.

She already had a good half a dozen paintings and she wanted to work some more, to see what else she could create. But the loud voices and arguments coming from the debate club next door had proven to be particularly distracting today, and she seemed to be unable to concentrate on what she was doing. And when she found herself wondering if she should use a light pink or a warm yellow, when usually she didn't question herself and painted instinctively, she knew she was not in the right kind of mood to get anything done.

Normally, she would be getting ready to head out to the conservatory, for rehearsal. But due to the director being out of town for some business or another, rehearsal has been canceled for the day, and she was left with not much to do to occupy her time with. Except maybe accept one tall blonde's invitation and pay a visit to the public library and get back on her reading.

It still surprised her, how easy it was to talk to her. Once she was done with her measuring and testing, of course. She barely knew the girl, because really, knowing a few facts about her family and barely a handful about what the blonde usually did with her free time could hardly be considered as knowing her at all. But Michiru knew, without a doubt, the blonde was exactly the kind of person she would like to have as a friend. She was hardly the trusting kind, and yet she knew she could trust this girl.

It was odd, really. They seemed to be quite opposite, yet she felt some sort of connection to her; as if she could understand her. Yes, the girl was strong minded. And yes, she definitively knew how to exasperate others with her quizzical words. And Michiru was sure, the blonde could easily make one strong, hard opponent; one she was sure she wouldn't want to face. But she could sense something in her. A kindness, stubbornly hidden from the surface. A softness, disguised and perhaps even unknown, but still there. Whatever it was, there was just something about her that inspired her trust and respect. And if anything, a good thinking head to talk to was always welcome.

Getting out of her uniform, she went for a simple outfit. An oyster colored crochet dress with a scoop neckline and cap sleeves, hugging her figure all the way to her thighs, were the material fell into a flowing skirt that reached all the way down to her knees. Hair lose and freely cascading down her back, and four inches heeled platform tan booties on her small feet. Taking a cropped denim jacket out of the wardrobe, she then went to her desk, taking her lambskin Louis Vuitton hobo bag, big enough to fit all kinds of items in it, she gathered all the stuff she thought necessary; the book she had forgotten to return the day before, along with her sketchbook, her graphite pencil set, a notebook, sunglasses and cellphone. Deciding to leave her violin behind for the day, knowing there wouldn't be much of a chance to play it at a library, and not wanting one particular tall blonde to have another almost heart attack moment on her, she placed all the gathered items into her bag, and then checked her image one last time on the full mirror.

"You going out?" came Yoshi's voice, making her turn around to look into strangely devastated honey eyes, as the girl came dangerously close to pout. "Why is everyone leaving me today?"

"I'm not 'leaving you'," was Sayuri's comment, as she too walked into their dorm, making her way to the wardrobe and already taking her shirt off.

Yoshi narrowed her eyes at the redheaded at that. "You're totally ditching me," she accused. "If you're so desperate to trade me for some guy, at least do so with someone you could actually get marry with!" she then exclaimed, letting herself fall over her bed.

Michiru giggled at the overly dramatic comment, turning to Sayuri and frowning curiously. "I missed something here, didn't I?"

"Yes!" Yoshi exclaimed, sitting up on the bed now. "She's ditching me!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger to their roommate, to then narrow her honey colored eyes towards the aforementioned girl. "You do know your kids will be retarded, right?"

"Oh my God!" Sayuri exclaimed, rising both hands up in the air as she turned away from the wardrobe to look at the offended girl. "What twisted novel are you reading here?" she asked, rhetorically.

"It's true!" Yoshi insisted. "It's a scientific, irrefutable fact. Screw around with family members, and you'll get retarded kids!" she pointed out. But when two pair of eyes just blinked at her, she blushed, lowering her gaze. "It happened a lot in the middle age in Europe, you know?"

"Explain?" Michiru asked, turning back to Sayuri, not sure she wanted to connect the dots by herself. And Yoshi's outburst didn't really explain much, anyway.

"My uncle is moving back from the States, and my mother wants me to take my cousin out for a little tour around the city," Sayuri explained, turning back to the opened wardrobe and taking her skirt off, as she looked for something to wear. "It's not a date, and I don't know where she got that idea, because really... ew!"

"You wanna know what guys think when they see a pretty skirt?" Yoshi retorted, frowning now. "Date!"

"He's her cousin," the violinist put in, not fully able to fight her amused smile off her face.

"So?" Yoshi asked, shaking a shoulder. "Maybe the guy's a bit twisted…"

Sayuri let out a sigh, lightly shaking her head. "For the last time, Yoshi, he is my _cousin_," she said, marking her every word. Taking a deep purple Prada dress with drop waist and a pleated skirt, she put it on, going now in search for shoes.

"I didn't know you were such a zealous friend," Michiru noted, teasingly.

Yoshi shrugged, blushing and lowering her face, concentrating on her folded hands over her lap instead, and Sayuri giggled, looking at Michiru and shaking a shoulder.

"She thinks that if by some weird, divine intervention I do go out on a date with one of the many 'Mr. Right' that are constantly thrown our way," she said, ironically and mockingly finger quoting the words, just for good measure, "I'll forget all about her and stop being her friend."

"That's cute," Michiru teased, giggling softly at Yoshi's blushing, pouting face.

Though they had never really given her any real indication, Michiru often wondered what was it with these two. They were pretty closed, that much was obvious, but sometimes it felt like an exclusive club of two. A club that, Michiru guessed, went a little bit beyond friendship.

On the outside, they were just like any other student in Sacred Heart. But the truth was completely different. They would sneak out at night sometimes only to come back with the breaking dawn, and Michiru couldn't help but wonder what they did all night out. If it weren't for the fact that they would both openly disapprove of some of the other girls' behavior, going out clubbing and indulging themselves in alcohol, drugs, and taking part in some rich guy's modern harem, she would think they were out to no good, doing something foolish.

Yoshi and Sayuri followed the rules only as far as their superiors' eyes could see, and did their own thing the rest of the time. And, again, though Michiru had no clue of what that was exactly, she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at times; they were really close, and she could only wish to have that kind of deep, honest bond with someone.

It wasn't that they pushed her off. Not at all. But she never truly felt like breaking in into their little club of two. She truly didn't feel like they had much in common, anyway...

"You could've said no," Yoshi accused, pouting again.

"I'm trying to stay on my mother's good grace here, remember?" Sayuri pointed out, as she put on a pair of cream colored two inches heeled Mary Jane's. "I'm supposed to be the nice, cute, responsible little girl, so that she would have no reason to say no to me going to Europe with you this summer instead of… whatever it is she's planning for the summer," she finished, frowning slightly and waving her hand around in the air.

"She'll totally figure out what we're up to once she sees the clothes you'll be taking," Yoshi teased, arching an eyebrow. "Cut off shorts and hiking boots are highly inappropriate for cruises and parties at private villages…"

"Then I guess I'll just have to keep her from seeing them, won't I?" the redheaded retorted, hands on her hips and arching an eyebrow, before she stroke a pose. "So, how do I look?"

A goofy grin came to Yoshi's lips at that. "Like the nice, cute, responsible little girl you're _not_."

Giggling at their teasing and bickering, Michiru nodded her approval. "You look good."

"Do you really have to go?" Yoshi asked, pouting again. "And leave me here, all alone and sad and... alone?"

Sayuri chuckled at her friend, before shaking her head and walking up to her, squatting down in front of the pouting girl and taking her hands. "Look, the guy is a comic book geek, ok?" Sayuri said, again, in a cooping tone. "The highest point in his life was when he went to some convention in California, for Christ's sake!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "I'd probably be out all day, showing him around while listening to him babbling on about God knows what superhero, bored to death, and wishing I was here with you, laughing at the Queen Bee and her entourage of morons. Which reminds me!" she then exclaimed, turning to the violinist, raising a finger up in the air before pointing it towards her, frowning. "What the hell did you do to her?"

She blinked, surprised at the sudden, and quite unexpected, change of subject. "What do you mean?"

"She's been asking around about you," Yoshi offered, frowning as well. "And you know she's up to no good when she gets like that…"

The memory of said Queen Bee suddenly coming to her the day before, wanting to know who her friend was came to mind, but she pushed it off. Iwasa could go around and ask as much as she'd like; she didn't have anything to hide, and no reason to give explanations.

The sound of Sayuri's cellphone got their attention, as the girl got up and went to her nightstand table, taking the small device resting on it and checking the text she just received, letting out a sigh. "I have to go," she announced, sending a pleading look Yoshi's way. "I really am sorry…"

"Just go already," the other girl said, rolling her eyes. "I'll do some homework or whatever."

Both Sayuri and Michiru blinked at that, incredulous. "Ok, now I'm seriously worried," the redheaded teased.

Deciding a flying cushion would speak louder and clearer than words, Yoshi threw one towards the girl, only to have her laughing loudly, easily dodging the offending object and waving her hand, disappearing behind their dorm's door. Once more giggling at their antics, Michiru shook her head, putting her jacket on and turning to look at her remaining roommate.

"I have to go, too," she announced.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Yoshi groaned, rolling her eyes. "Where are you going, anyway?" she then asked, curiously.

"I'm meeting with a friend."

"Oh," the girl said, obviously surprised. But then a cheeky, teasing grin came to her features. "A friend friend, or a 'friend'?" she asked, finger quoting the last part.

She blushed at such question, yet unable to fight off the half chocked giggle that escaped her at her roommate's crazy ideas. "Just a friend."

"You sure?" she asked, teasingly. And then laughing again when Michiru narrowed her eyes at her. "Ok, ok, sorry!" she exclaimed, palms up in the air. "I was just asking!" she said, shaking her head. "Seriously, though, be careful, Michiru," she then added, completely changing her tone and face expression to a more serious, kind of worried one. "You know how good Iwasa is at digging through other people's shit."

"She can dig all she wants."

"I'm being serious here," Yoshi insisted. "She's a heartless bitch, and you know it."

She nodded her head at that, admittedly. The girl wasn't exactly her most favorite person in the world -far from it, actually. And she couldn't really see what was the sudden interest in her all about. She was quite aware of the girl's tendency to pry into other people's lives with the sole intention of using whatever information she could gather against them, so that she could get things her way. But Michiru could hardly see a motive for Iwasa to suddenly want something from her. And in any case, she wasn't scare of her; she had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. And she was sure, nothing short of getting pregnant outside marriage would ever even caught her father's attention.

"I'm fine, Yoshi," she assured her, touched by the girl's genuine concern. "There's nothing to worry about," she insisted, if only to erase the worried frown from her roommate's face. "I have to go now."

Yoshi groaned, rolling her eyes and letting herself fall over her bed. And she giggled, sending an apology her way, only to receive another groan, as the girl raised her hand, flickering her fingers in farewell, but not really saying anything else, as she took a pillow and covered her face with it.

Giggling at her antics, knowing there was not much she could do to save the girl from the upcoming boredom, and not wanting to be late -she didn't know at what time the blonde would be there after all, and it would be a shame to miss her-, she took her bag and stepped out of her dorm. She made her way down the hallways and the stairs, walking out of the building as fast as her heels would let her without actually breaking into a run, checking on her wristwatch and knowing she had a few more minutes before the bus would pass by school grounds. But she made it just in time; the bus coming into view as she reached the stop, and then smiling gently and politely to the driver as he opened the door for her. Taking a seat by the window, securing her bag on her lap, she indulged herself in her own wandering thoughts as the city went by in front of her eyes.

Her mind taking her everywhere. To her dreams and the still so many unanswered questions. To classic mythology, wondering if this Neptune and Uranus thing, names she had heard in her dreams and visions, had something to do with it -she doubted it, but she wasn't quite ready to discard anything yet. To her paintings, thinking maybe a watercolor landscape would be nice. To her roommates, and the curious, deep bond between them. To the well known lonely aftertaste that last thought left in her heart, wondering, not for the first time, if maybe there was something wrong with her; if maybe wanting and searching for that kind of connection with someone was just a silly idea; a fictional notion books, movies, plays helped instilled in her. Maybe trying to find that connection, that understanding was what kept her from making any real friends.

A soft, shy, wondering smile coming to her lips as her thoughts turned to one tall blonde girl. There really was something about her, something that made her trust the girl, even though she barely even knew her. It was as if she knew, instinctively, she could be herself around the blonde and talk to her, knowing there would be no judgments, no pointing fingers. For some reason, the blonde had been able to see past her masks, beyond what anyone else ever saw in her, and she liked that. Maybe that was a good sign, maybe they could become friends.

For real, like Yoshi and Sayuri.

Pushing her thoughts to a side, she raised from her seat as she saw the bus nearing her stop. That soft, relaxed smile of hers coming to her lips immediately, naturally, as she got off and walked the small distance to the public building, going up the small set of stairs of the entrance, stopping at the front desk only to return the book, and then walking passed the lobby, not needing to ask for directions this time.

Making her way up the stairways and into the first floor, she walked past the main area, vaguely wondering if she should check a book or two out. She knew she could find a moment to read without prying eyes and curious questions she didn't really feel to answer -and wasn't really sure of how to answer, either- coming her way. Haruka had seen her reading such a book, but seemed to have accepted her explanation easily, but she knew, her roommates wouldn't be as kind, wanting to know where her curiosity came from.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, that by the time she saw a tall pile of books being carried by a pair of long, tanned legs stepping out of one if the isles just as she was passing by, it was already too late. Avoiding collision was not possible, but she did her best no to fall down on the floor, stumbling upon her own feet and trying to regain her balance. The books, however, were not that lucky, and the sequence of thud sounds hitting the floor in fast succession for no longer than a few seconds broke the library's silent air, earning her and her collision partner more than just a few looks, going from disapproving to surprised or just plain curious.

She squatted down fast, helping gathering the books again, terribly embarrassed at herself. "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, in a low voice not to break the tranquil air once more.

The echo of the exact same words she whispered reached her ear, and she blinked, looking up to the young woman she just ran into for the first time. Her blue eyes barely registering the young woman's ambiguous features, both strong and delicate at the same time, or the lingering agelessness all around her, before something else flashed in front of her eyes.

A magnificent marble palace, so pure and white it seemed to be made of crystal, shinning proudly under the stars, that seemed so closed it almost felt as if she could reached them with her hands. There was a beautiful garden on the front, with what looked like white lilies all around. And everything was white, as if bathed with the purest of lights. It radiated peace and quietness, and it left her with a strange mix of feelings; belonging, as if she knew and loved that place and would do anything to keep its pureness intact, and longing, as if she did so from afar and wanted to be there.

It was gone as soon as it came, and she blinked again, taken aback by the sudden, strange image, and the aftertaste of those conflicted feelings it evoked in her. She blinked again, a frown coming to her features as she looked into magenta eyes.

"Are you ok?" the young beautiful woman asked, frowning both worriedly and curiously. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head, forcing herself to come back from wherever that flashing image had taken her to, and smiled gently. "No, I'm fine," she assured her. "I should be asking you that," she then added, ashamed.

"Oh, no, please," the woman said, taking the books in her hands and moving to stand up, "I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going…" she trailed off, gesturing to the books filling her arms and once more almost hiding her face entirely.

"Can I help with that?" Michiru offered, smiling softly.

"I'm fine, thank you," the other said, shaking her head. "I should go and…"

"Yes, of course," she was fast to say, stepping to a side to let the woman pass. "Again, I'm sorry for running over you…"

"It's alright, don't worry," the woman said, giving her a soft small smile. "Have a good day."

She returned the smile, slightly vowing her head. "You too."

A small frown came to her features as the olive skinned woman walked passed her, on her way to one of the desks on the main area. Something about that tall, dark green haired woman seemed strangely familiar, though she was sure, she had never seen her before in her life. But maybe she had something to do with that castle she just saw, or the strange dreams that plagued her nights…

She shook her head, dismissing that last thought. Running into someone that would somehow be connected to her dreams in a place like this was improbable, and just too much to hope for.

She finally reached her destination and turned to the left, walking into the small isle. One tall girl was already sitting there, with her blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun, wearing a gray v-neck fitting Hensley tee and washed out skinny jeans, with biker buckle belted black boots on her feet. A black leather jacket hanging from the chair she was sitting on, and her bag resting on a side over the table. No books this time; only the silver laptop she was staring at, smiling like a greedy, excited little kid on Christmas.

With a smile of her own, she walked up to the blonde. Thoughts of dreams, that mysterious, intriguing young woman, and castles all gone as shinning, happy, excited green eyes looked up to her.

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> About the geek comment: don't hit me! I seriously don't mean to offend anyone! I mean, I'm a SM geek, for crying out loud! It just served the story…. And about the convention, I was thinking Comic-Con, which (to anyone who doesn't know) has evolved into a wider con and it's not just about comics but more of a sci-fi con (movies, tv shows, books, games... and anything else you can think of, really). But you know… whatever floats your boat is fine with me.

**petiyaka:** you should listened to my next door neighbor. She's 16 now, but when she was 13, I accidentally heard a private conversation she was having with her friend (seriously, the stairs/hallway is *not* the best place to be having private convo… but whatever…), and let me tell you, 13 year old girls shouldn't be having casual sex…. Also, 10°C? Are you kidding me? I freeze my ass off with that temperature! (guess I am getting old, after all…)

**ReaderMarz:** I take it you never went to a catholic school, did you? Trust me, it's a viper's nest...

**Anon:** sorry for the typo. I already fixed it. Sorry to hear you find this boring. Normally, and as a reader myself, when something annoys me bad enough to make me skip paragraphs, I just stop reading. So feel free to do that if you find my writing so annoying. In my defense, all I can say is I like it when authors (here, and published) describe things/emotions/situations well enough to create an empathy, so I try to do that while trying to explain something I find relevant to the story and the characters. As a writer, I can do that, and as a reader, you can stop at anytime and hit the back button. Thanks for readying anyway (though I'm sure you'll never read this, anyway. I know I wouldn't go past chapter one if I find it annoying and/or boring…).

**SeraEris:** alright, alright! Don't yell at me! *pouts* I'm not sure how well I did with that damn project… if I don't make it, I'm gonna crawl into some dark corner and lock myself up to lick my wounds… *cries*

**AlterEgoErin:** another one who never went to a catholic school, uh? You're still gonna wait a bit longer for Haruka to race. But it'll get there at some point :p

**kyupak:** I'm so glad you like my stories! And I won't be updating OLAB for now; not until I'm done re-writing it, and that's gonna take a while… sorry! You know how they say God acts in mysterious ways? Well, the coincidental meetings are not really that coincidental… some things are just meant to be, right? But, you know, it's gonna take a while for them to realize that. *wink*

**PurpleIzzy:** hello there! *waves hand* Don't think I've seen you around my fics before, so, welcome! Thanks for reading and letting me know what you think so far! Though I don't really think Haruka could be described as "feminine". At least not in the most classical way… I checked your profile, so you know the Haruka I have in mind for this. Only, you know, with more modern clothes…

On a completely side note that has nothing to do with your review or my story, I read the spanish translation of your one-shot (the original was funny). Don't know how good the person who did the translation is with Spanish, but there are a few misspells (technically, they're not misspells per say, but more like orthographical errors)… But from what I've seen in the spanish section, readers usually don't mind much? I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't read ff's in Spanish. That and, as weird as it sounds, I find it extremely weird because the stories are always written in Spanish-spanish (as in, from Spain) or in latin spanish, and I speak neither, and the wording is completely different and it feels so foreign and weird… but you should tell Crapycrap that there are a few accents missing pretty much on every word that should have an accent. Again, maybe it's just me, but missing accents just unnerve me *blushes*


	9. Chapter 9

**Discalimer:**Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>9<strong>

She felt like a horny teenage boy looking for pornography. Wanting and longing and fantasizing about something they could not quite have yet, and impatiently waiting for that glorious day to come. And though most men never got to actually fulfill the teenage dream of being with a porn star or super model -or something among the lines of a beautiful woman worthy of complete adoration and main source of sexual fantasies-, the feeling was still pretty much the same; she longed for the day she would finally get her greedy hands on such beauty.

She could barely wait.

The shapes, the curves, the way the sunlight hit such magnificent creation. A part of her brain told her it was a wonder she wasn't drooling all over her laptop, but she ignored it, unable to fight off the smile she knew was probably making her look stupid. But she really couldn't help herself; this beauty represented one of her most precious fantasies, and the mere idea of being able to make it real some day was incredibly exciting.

It occurred to her then, this was probably the way a drug addict felt right before getting a hit. The anxiety and anticipation, knowing how great it would be. Of course, she had absolutely no idea of how it actually felt like to get high, and she was smart enough to know better than to even wonder about it. Besides, who needed drugs when there were other ways to feel that high and wonderful? This was her very own ticket to nirvana, and she had every intention of getting it.

The sound of soft steps reached her ears and she looked up as the aquamarine haired girl walked into the small isle, pulling out a chair to take a seat right in front of her. Still too caught up in her little fantasy heaven, she tried to fight the dreamy expression off her face, putting on a less ecstatic -though still honest- smile instead.

"Hey," she greeted. "You made it."

"You invited me, remember?" Michiru said, slightly tilting her head to a side, making her long, aquamarine curls cascade down her shoulder at the movement.

"Yeah, but you kinda gave me the impression you were too busy or something."

"Rehearsal was canceled," she said, nonchalantly shaking a shoulder, "and I figured you're not exactly the dangerous, bad influence kind of girl, so…"

She arched an eyebrow at the choice of words. "And what makes you so sure of that?" she asked, curiously and amused.

She knew a handful of people that would call her exactly that based only on her tastes and aspirations in life. Not that she particularly cared for what others thought of her, but still. Michiru's choice of adjectives was kind of ironic...

One perfectly aquamarine eyebrow went up, mirroring her own smug expression. "You may not be the perfect young lady according to social standards, but I'm assuming you're not deeply, mentally disturbed or a bloodthirsty psycho," she stated.

She chuckled, trying not to actually burst out laughing and calling out attention. "I'm not, I promise," she assured her, palms up in the air for good measure and shaking her head in amusement.

Michiru smiled, nodding her head in satisfaction. "And the fact that you were out exercising yesterday shows me you have some healthy habits," she continued, "which leads me to assume you're not the crazy party girl and potential alcoholic slash drug addict type," she said, again giving her a small, satisfied smile when Haruka simply shook her head, agreeing with her. "So that rules you out of the bad influence list. You being different from any other girl I know adds a curiosity factor to the equation, so why not come here instead of spending the rest of the afternoon bored out of my mind?"

Resting her back against the chair, lifting up one leg, knee against the table and foot on the chair, arms crossed over her chest, she tilted her head to a side. Green eyes narrowing just barely, before her trademark sided smirk came to her lips. "You really _are_ something else," she stated.

"I'll take that as a compliment," the aquamarine haired girl said, arching a questioning eyebrow her way.

"Please do," she said, nodding her head once, before a curious frown came to her features.

This girl really was something else. She had sensed that much upon meeting her that second time around, and then confirmed her suspicious the day before, when the aquamarine haired girl refused to be tagged and treated as the aristocrat little girl Haruka was sure many treated her as. And though she probably had to put up with it for politeness' sake, she obviously was not so keen on a girl who obviously didn't follow standards to tag her under some stereotype. This girl had a mind of her own, and that alone made her interesting.

She was different, and Haruka liked that.

But it really was all just a feeling she got from her, slightly confirmed by her words. She barely knew this girl, and she was curious to know how different she really was. Yes, Michiru had a voice of her own, but Haruka was curious to find out what that voice had to say.

"Out of curiosity," she started to say, slightly tilting her head to a side as she studied the girl's deep blue eyes, "how far off was I?"

The cute, small frown that came to Michiru's soft features made her smile, and she chuckled lightly, trying to keep her voice in a low hush as not to disturb anyone outside the small isle they were currently occupying.

"In my wild guess about you," she offered, as explanation to her question, "how far off was I?"

The girl rested her back against the chair, studying her for a moment as she let a soft, kind of melodic, long sigh. "Not that far," she finally answered, after a moment.

"But not quite right, either," she added for her. "You said I was close enough, and I'm kind of curious to know how close."

And she was.

Because Michiru had been right the day before when saying she didn't know the first thing about the aquamarine haired girl. She didn't. Except for a few facts here and there that gave her a general -though vague- idea of where she came from. But knowing she was a Kaioh and she went to a private school hardly classified as knowing the girl at all. She hated it when people assumed things about her just because of her family name, so she figured it was only right not to do that with others.

And she usually didn't. She only made up her mind about someone when she knew enough about a person to do so. Of course, for her to willingly find out something about someone meant she would have to find that someone interesting enough for her to even bother on finding out who they were in the first place.

She saw the girl in front of her taking a deep breath, as if trying to decide what and how to answer her.

"My mother was the one sending me to that school," Michiru finally said, looking serious, and even a little detached as she shook her shoulder. "Probably realizing traveling around the world, going to parties and social events day in and day out, and never staying in the same city for longer than maybe a month is not exactly right for a young fine lady," she said, with a rather mocking, ironic tone to her voice when she said the last few words.

But then she let out a soft, tired sigh, shrinking her shoulders when the blonde only raised a half surprised, half questioning eyebrow.

"Don't look so surprised. Mother's never ending partying life style is no secret."

She tilted her head to a side, scratching the back of her neck. "I'm not really subscribed to the Gossip Gazette."

Although she lived under the same roof as a faithful gossiper, Haruka would hardly consider her uncle's wife as a reliable source of information. She read the newspapers, and she was well informed about important matters and what was going on in the world, but who married who and who had an affair with who was none of her business. She couldn't care less about what people she only knew by name did with their lives. She was good at reading people, and paid no mind to rumors and gossips; when it came down to judging characters, she only trusted in what she could see and hear by her own means, no matter what others thought or saw -or heard, which was usually the case.

Michiru chuckled lightly at her comment, shaking her head. "Well, considering she is my mother, I don't think we can call it a gossip," she said, her voice soft and low, never losing its melodic tone. "It's just the truth. She travels a lot, likes to enjoy herself, and thought a school with such a reputation was the right choice. I wouldn't have chosen a catholic school myself, but when it comes down to academics, it really is a good school, so..." she trailed off softly, shaking her shoulder. "That's about the school. The parties..." she trailed off for a moment, frowning lightly before letting out another sigh. "I enjoy the parties, and the gowns, and the shoes," she admitted, smiling softly, as what Haruka could only read as an exasperated frown came to her soft, delicate features. "Is the never ending line of suitors that are interested in me for all the wrong reasons I don't quite enjoy as much."

It was Haruka's turn to chuckle then, as she didn't need to ask to know what she meant by that. The girl's father was a well known, successful business man, and the aqua girl was doomed to have a few young suitors milling about just because of that. An important business man's daughter in designer, exquisite dresses and gowns who was quite beautiful without such adornments was surely a walking magnet to young single men -and maybe even to the not so single ones, though those probably wouldn't approach her so openly.

Her beauty only added to her name. Either if it was to her suitors' numbers, or to their interest in her, it didn't matter; if their interest started with her family name and looks and never went beyond that, then yes, Haruka had to agree, it was because of all the wrong reasons.

"And daddy doesn't care enough to bother with such trivial things as music and which instrument I play."

The blonde frowned at her then. "You don't know that," she said, sending a sympathetic look her way.

"I do, actually," Michiru said, in a rather low, tired murmur. But then she shook herself; her soft, elegant demeanor coming back to her as she obviously pushed whatever thoughts where dancing in her mind off. "It's just the way he is. He's married to his job, and anything else is second best, or irrelevant altogether," the girl finished, shaking a shoulder in an uninterested manner.

But something in the way she said that, in the way the light in her eyes diminished for just a spit of a second made her frown again.

Her mother was not exactly the loving, role model kind. Her father seemed to be quite the cold type. It made her wonder, was there any love in Michiru's life?

She knew first hand what if was like to be alone. Her uncle was a miserable man that drowned himself in his work, and his wife... well, Haruka hardly even considered her family at all. But at least she had the memory of her parents. Memories she treasured and cherished, deep inside her.

She had a few acquaintances here and there, but no one she would really consider a real friend. Not even Matsumoto or Shou, no matter how close and at ease she was to and with them.

Some saw her as a loner, but the truth was, besides her parents, she never really found someone that would inspired her that kind of trust. That blinded trust that would let her open up to someone, fully and with no second thoughts.

She was quite aware of how different she was from the girl sitting in front of her. Where one was soft and delicate, Haruka was rough and proud. In a way, Michiru was everything she wasn't; feminine, poised, soft in her every word and move. Though the blonde could sense a strength, somewhere deep inside the girl, still, in essence, they seemed to be complete opposites. And yet, as she absorbed and processed the words the girl had just said and saw her sitting there, right in front of her, Haruka couldn't help but feel that they were, in some deep, subtle level, pretty much alike.

For whatever reasons, they were both on their own, making their own path, regardless of what others thought and said.

Her trademark sided smile came to her lips then. Yes, she definitively liked this girl.

"Well, it's his loss, then," she stated, shaking her shoulder and nodding her head for good measure.

Michiru frowned cutely at her words, and she chuckled.

"A young girl with a mind of her own and goals in life that go beyond just getting married and becoming a baby maker," she said, smiling to her. "That alone makes you quite the interesting character. And if your father, or anyone else for that matter, can't or won't see that and get to know you better, then it's their loss."

The smile that came to Michiru's lips then was soft. Faint even, barely tugging at the corner of her lips, yet illuminating her soft features, making a lighter shade of blue dance in her deep sea blue eyes. It made her look quite beautiful, and for some reason, it made Haruka's stomach jump up.

"I'm not exactly the approachable kind," Michiru said, softly, shrinking her shoulders in a rather cutely shy manner.

Haruka smiled. "Neither am I."

"Could've fooled me."

She arched an eyebrow at that, incredulous. "Really?"

Michiru giggled then, again shrinking her shoulders. "Ok, no, not really," she said, admittedly. "But you're not the ogre type, either," she then added, making the blonde chuckle at the comment, as a curious frown came to the girl's delicate features. "You're... something else," she finally said, quoting the blonde's previous words.

She chuckled again at the girl's words and subtle teasing, lightly shaking her head in amusement. Her grin turning into a sided, soft smile at the sight of the rather triumphant -though still soft and delicate- smile that came to Michiru's lips in return.

"So tell me, Haruka Tenoh," she started, again, in a somewhat teasing tone, "what about you?"

"What about me?" she asked back, shaking a shoulder and gifting the girl's soft, teasing smile with a defiant one of her own.

"In a two days time, you've managed to find out a few things about me," the girl pointed out, as she flickered one curly lock off her shoulder. "In the same amount of time, all I've found out about you is your name."

The blonde raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm sure you've managed to figure out more than just my name," she said, knowingly.

"True," the girl agreed, nodding her head and frowning lightly. "But it's not quite the same thing."

"How so?"

"Assuming something based on what I may have known or heard prior to meeting you, and then figuring a thing or two out based on what you chose to show to others, or in this case, to me, is not quite the same as hearing the truth straight from you."

Her sided smirk came back to her face at that. Damn, she really liked this girl.

"Take a wild guess. It's only fair, after all, don't you think?" she said, unable and unwilling to hide the challenge from her voice. "What is it that you think you know about me?"

She saw her taking a deep breath as she rested against the back of the chair. Deep sea blue eyes narrowing just barely, head tilting to a side, as she studied her for a moment before a small, knowing smile came to her lips. "You're cocky."

It wasn't a question, it wasn't a reproach. It was simply a statement. And she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Good start," she granted, nodding her head. "What else?"

"You're independent, and don't like to be told what to do, which probably makes you kind of stubborn, too," Michiru said, smiling when the blonde only chuckled again. "You train, and you're probably good at whatever it is that you train for. Either if you're a natural or not doesn't matter. Failing is not in your nature."

She arched an eyebrow at that, actually impressed. This girl was really good at reading people…

Michiru smiled again then, obviously reading the half surprised, half impressed expression all over her face, because a small, all the way satisfied smile came to the girl's lips. "You play the piano," she continued, "and you're remarkably good at it, but being a musician is not what you want to do with your life. Otherwise, you wouldn't have turned down being a part of the Metropolitan. And considering what you said yesterday, I'm assuming you don't particularly like your aunt that much."

"She's not my aunt," she corrected her, unable to stop herself before the words just left her mouth.

"And that just proves me right on that one," Michiru said, nodding her head. "She's the grown up version of… what were your words…?" she trailed off, frowning in faked thoughtful manner.

Again, the blonde chuckled. "A brat," she offered, amused at the girl's refusal to use such word. "A spoiled, pompous, unbearable brat."

"You just added the unbearable part," the girl noted, arching an eyebrow in a kind of chastising, all the way teasing manner.

"Yeah, well, she is."

"I have to agree with that."

"You've met her?" Haruka asked, curiously now.

"Once," Michiru said, nodding her head. "Having spent some time with the both of you, assuming you don't like her wasn't exactly a wild guess. But everything else is, considering you have yet to confirm or deny anything of what I just said," she pointed out, tilting her head to a side. "As it is right now, all I know for sure is that you go to a public school, you don't care much about other people's expectations, and your parents are dead."

Something must have flashed through her eyes then, as she moved on her seat, shifting to a more comfortable position and crossing her legs, because Michiru's smile was suddenly gone. An apologetic frown replacing it, as she tilted her head to a side.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be," she said, shaking her shoulder. "You weren't the one crashing that jet down," she joked, in an attempt to dismiss the subject. But the sad look upon blue eyes -no pity, no sympathy, just sadness- was hard to ignore, and she let out a sigh, resting her forearms against the table. "It's ok, Michiru, you don't have to apologize. It was years ago, and I'm fine," she said, reassuringly. "Do I miss them? Yes. Do I wish they were here? Every day. But they're not. They're dead, and I'm still here, and I'm doing my best to be true to what they taught me and maybe make them proud, wherever they are right now."

Michiru did something unexpected then. Straightening herself on her seat, she reached out a hand across the table, taking Haruka's and softly squeezing it, in a gentle, soothing gesture. A gesture that Haruka wasn't expecting at all, and it surprised her as much as it warmed her, and she smiled up to the girl, completely amazed at how strangely comforting a small, soft thumb caress could be.

"To thine own self be true," she said, taking a deep breath to try to fight off the sudden knot in her throat. "That was my father's favorite quote, and that's the one rule I live by. So yes, you're right, I don't like to be told what to do," she said, gifting the girl with a smile now. "Because it usually involves preconceptions and stupid, ancient tacit rules that say what girls can or cannot do. I'm not letting anyone dictate my life, and unless there is some real, physical reason as to why I can't do what I want, then no, I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Reach for the sky," Michiru said, smiling softly and lightly nodding her head.

"Exactly."

"So you _are_ stubborn."

"Maybe a little," she said, grinning now. "So, that's about the first part. The training bit…" she trailed off for a moment, smiling cockily now. "You're right about me being good, but you're wrong about not being a natural."

"Cocky," the girl noted, teasingly arching an eyebrow.

"It's the truth," she defended herself. "I'm good at sports, always have been. But since I have a thing for speed and adrenaline, I've decided to narrow down the specter and focus on just one sport instead of being all over the place. So I run."

"Track and field?" Michiru guessed, nodding her head when the blonde did the same, silently answering the question. "So how fast are you?"

She really couldn't help it. A proud, wide smile came to her lips then. "Two hundred meters in 19.53 seconds."

Deep sea blue eyes went wide opened at that. "You broke the world's record?"

"Not yet," she answered, shaking her head. "That's 19.32 for two hundred meters. But I'm getting there," she stated, confidently.

Michiru blinked. "Wow…" she mumbled, blinking again. "I mean... wow…"

"So yeah, I guess you can say I'm fast."

"No kidding…" the girl mumbled, still quite impressed.

"And, yes, I play the piano," she continued, nodding her head. "My mom got me into it when I was little, and I used to play for her. It was something I shared only with her, and yeah, I guess I'm good at it, but again, you were right. It's not what I wanna do with my life."

"So what do you want to do with your life?" Michiru asked, curiously. "You want to be a runner?"

"I guess I could do that professionally," she said, frowning for a moment.

"But that's not your dream," the aquamarine haired girl guessed, nodding her head.

She tilted her head to a side for a moment, thinking. People always frowned down on her when she said what she wanted to do with her life, saying it wasn't proper, it was too risky and dangerous, that it was a men's world. They would always say it was a crazy idea, and that she should forget all about it and find something more lady like. Not that she ever paid any attention to what others said or thought, but for some really strange reason, Michiru's opinion mattered, and she was afraid of telling her, only to have her frowning disapprovingly at her.

Weighing her options, she finally let out a sigh, slipping the hand Michiru was still holding in hers away and taking her laptop, flipping it around. Carefully studying the girl's features as she looked at the screen.

"A car?" she asked, curiously, and kind of lost. "That's your dream?"

"That's not just a car, it's a 599 GTB Fiorano," she corrected her. "That's a Ferrari."

"You already have a car."

"I do. But this would be my baby," she said, nodding her head.

Michiru giggled at her choice of words, and for some reason, it made her blush. Shaking her head and scratching the back of her neck, she chuckled, amused at the girl's smile and relieved at her not judging her.

"Some girls dream about makeup, and dresses, and shoes. I dream about cars," she said, shaking a shoulder. "And I want to race. That's what I wanna do with my life."

"A car racer."

She nodded her head. "Yup."

"Formula 1?"

"Yup."

"How's that going for you?"

"Getting there," she said, unable to fight off the greedy, excited smile off her face. "I have a test race this saturday."

The smile that came to the girl's face then was soft, somewhere in between impressed and just happy. For what exactly, Haruka didn't know, but it felt good. It made her feel good, and wondering about it didn't even cross her mind at the moment.

"Good luck with that, then," Michiru said, with nothing but honesty in her tone.

"Thanks," she said, returning the girl's soft smile with one of her own. "You can come if you want," she then said, tilting her head to a side and winking at her. "I need to start working on my fan club."

Michiru's soft, melodic laugh filled the silent air then, as the girl shook her head, amused. Long, curly aquamarine locks dancing all around her at her movements.

"You need to pass that test of yours before worrying about that," the girl teased.

"Oh, I'll pass," she said, confidently.

"You do that, and I promise I'll be there for your first real race to cheer you on."

"Deal."

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> For some reason, this was excruciatingly hard to write… But here it is! At last!

**glomu17:** really? Go and walk around! Maybe you can find them somewhere in there. Just... be careful... you don't wanna interrupt anything, do you? *wink* I'm glad you're enjoying this so much! Means I'm doing _something_ right :)

**ReaderMarz:** I'm pretty sure everyone is familiar with the Queen Bee image. And we have Hollywood to thank for that! She won't play such an important role here, though. Just a colorful character (that belongs to the darker side of the chromatic wheel... but still!) that adds a little something to the story. And you wouldn't even believe how keen on completely changing and distorting facts some catholic school girls are... *rolls eyes* But I won't bore you with such old stories. Let's just say they like to say all kinds of crap about everyone they don't find 'right and proper', and though some grow out of that, others will forever live in the stupid little crystal bubble their parents created for them.

And, hey! Not everyone likes every single story out there, and I'm fine with that. I just felt like defending my own point of view. And whoever doesn't like my stories is free to hit the back button at anytime :)

**PurpleIzzy:** oh God, no, 'girly' is so far off from Haruka! It's the word I'd use to describe what she is _not._ But yeah, I get your point. And I'm glad you like my version of Haruka. I know every writer (or fan, for that matter) has their very own view of each and every character, and I know a lot prefer Anime over Manga, so anything that is not flat-chested Haruka with pants and ties is wrong. Ok, so, I'm making her having long hair on this one, and that is not the Haruka we all know and love (Manga or Anime). But the whole point is, they're still kind of finding themselves... and I'll get to the short, untamed style when I feel it's right with this particular story, promise!

Hope you liked this one chap as a sort of development. Getting there, just bear with me. And yup, that relationship is quite obvious. But Michiru is not the kind to go around making assumptions, or getting her nose on other people's business, so... you know, she doesn't know for sure and just let them be.

**SeraEris:** I love you. That's all I gotta say to you. *tackle hugs!*

**txaggie1209:**10 years in a catholic school, from 3rd grade till last year of high school, was enough for me. There's no way in hell I'll put myself through a catholic college (or even a private one). I feel sorry for you. I honestly do! Sure, it was a pretty good school, in strictly academics terms, and skipping class because we absolutely had to go to church was good. Specially when said class was something boring and excruciating, like physics or chemistry... and the chemistry teacher was a nightmare! God rest her soul, but I swear, she inspired terror! Good thing nuns were only there for "soul guiding purposes", like I don't know, catechism and preparing young little souls for the first communion and stuff like that. There was only one nun I absolutely loved ('cause she was cool and nice, and knew every single student by name, even though there were over 1200), but she died when I was still in high school. So sad. She had a limp ever since she was a child (she was a great story teller, so of course she told about how she got it, and let me tell you, I would totally kill my cousin if a prank and a fall off the stairs ends up on a permanent limp!), and still you would always see her walking fast down the hallways, turning lights off when there was no one in the classroom, taking rest of duct tape off the walls, and just walking around... We called her the Road Runner :P

Don't know what this has to do with your review... guess I just felt like sharing a little :p Thanks for the trip down memory lane inductive review!

**petiyaka:**queen bee, queen bee, queen bee. Just for you amusement! Queen bee, queen bee, queen bee! LOL! Ok, seriously now. Yes, I'm getting old, no arguing about that one. And nope, Sets won't be showing up on this one. I just felt like adding another little "casual" meeting, just because I can :P


	10. Chapter 10

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>10<strong>

_(edited! If you wanna read, go to blog. If not, let's just say someone had an interesting dream...)_

She jolted up in the bed, breathing heavenly and blinking, trying to orientate herself as her eyes registered the familiar surroundings of her own room. A shaky, heavy moan escaping her parted, gasping lips, and that same strange feeling from her dream still lingering on some lower regions of her body. A frown coming to her features, her hands tightly grabbing the sheets around her as she pressed her legs together, mortified.

"Shit!" she mumbled, embarrassed beyond words as her mind told her what that tingling feeling in between her legs meant.

She was aroused.

She had just had a very vivid, very passionate dream, and now she was left gasping and breathing heavily in her own bed, sexually aroused because of a dream. Her cheeks burnt red when she wondered if maybe she had moaned out in her sleep, and if anyone had heard her.

She groaned, mortified, falling down back on the bed and turning to her side, curling up into a ball and covering her embarrassed, aroused self with the sheets, all the way up to her head. She had no experience in the area, and never really felt her own body -or mind, for that matter- react towards someone on that sense, yet she knew, without a doubt, that dream had definitively turned her on.

Big time.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down and cool off her suddenly ardent body, as several different things came rushing to her mind.

This dream had been different than all her previous ones. The ones about the destruction, the silence, the end of the world, those quite terrifying dreams always felt more like a revelation of some sort rather than actual dreams. But this one had been not only of an entirely different nature, but it had also felt entirely different. It was not a revelation or a vision, and it was not a dream either. Somehow, she just knew, with a surprising certainty, that it was a memory.

Then there was the matter of her mysterious lover. She hadn't seen a face, or any other part of her lover's anatomy for that matter, yet she knew it had been a woman. The still lingering feeling of breasts, nipples hard and erect brushing against her own was obvious enough, and as the memory invaded her, making her shiver in response, she buried her redden face into her pillow; a mix between a groan and a moan, muffled, escaping her. In her dream, she had been pretty much sexually assaulted by another woman.

She frowned at that. Maybe assaulted wasn't the right word. She had been quite willing and consenting...

The fact that it has been a woman, which may quite possibly mean she was a lesbian, considering her own body's reaction to this particular dream, wasn't as surprising as the dream in itself. Actually, this mysterious lover of hers being a woman kind of explained a few things. Like, why she had never really been even remotely interested in guys ever before. But then again, she had never really been interested in girls either. Sure, she would notice them, their beauty and general looks, but never really going as far as to actually notice them in a less chaste way. So maybe it wasn't a matter of her being gay or not, and it had more to do with this particular woman, specifically. A woman who's face she hadn't seen, of whom she knew nothing of.

She frowned at that, turning around to lay on her back, sprawled over the mattress. She didn't particularly mind about whether she was gay or not. If she was, she was, if she wasn't, then she wasn't. She was not about to censored herself, and until she had some sort of experience, one way or the other, and out in the real world, that would give her a more clear idea of who she was regarding her sexual identity, she wasn't going to mull over that particular matter. She was young, and she knew it was only natural to go into that discovering oneself phase sooner or later.

But the part about not knowing anything about this lover of hers was not quite accurate. She could clearly hear herself calling out to this mysterious woman. And really, if others called her Uranus on these strange dreams, visions, or whatever they were of hers, then this woman's name being Neptune was really not that odd.

Which led her to another -less erotic- thought. In this dream of hers, the stars had seemed way too bright. Way too close. And though she wasn't much into astronomy, she was sure there was no place on earth the stars would look that big, bright and close. And she knew for a fact Earth had no rings, either. How she knew what those rocky, icy looking particles she had seen in her dream during her -rather exploding- release were, was beyond her, but somehow, and just as she knew this wasn't just a dream, she knew those things were rings.

Planetary rings.

Whenever that passionate encounter had occurred, it had happened in the outer space.

Raising a hand up and massaging her temples, she hummed to herself in a thoughtful manner. These strange visions of hers kept on getting weirder and weirder. Because, really, life -and civilization- in another planets? How weird was that? Again, she wasn't exactly lectured on astronomy, but she knew such thing has never been proven so far, and expeditions to other planets had proven fruitless on that particular area. And yet she knew, she had been, at some point in some far off past life, out in the outer space.

Having sex with a woman, in another planet. If that wasn't an all time first, then she didn't know what was.

Blushing yet again at her own thoughts, at the memories rushing right back to her mind and at her body reacting to said images, she groaned, pushing said thoughts and images out of her head. Forcing her foggy, still embarrassed and still kind of aroused self to think straight, she searched through her mind, trying to recall which planets had rings.

Saturn was the first one that came to mind. It was, as far as she knew, the one planet with the most notorious, famous rings. But somehow it didn't feel quite right, and she was sure Uranus, Neptune, and even Jupiter had rings as well. Not really having anything else to go by than that, she scratched the remaining five planets off the list. And considering she was supposed to be or represent Uranus, and this lover of hers Neptune, having been in one or the other didn't seem that off.

Uranus and Neptune.

That had to mean something. She just didn't know what. Though obviously following after the celestial bodies out there, she knew this entire thing -whatever it was- wasn't directly linked to said planets. At least not in the strictly astronomical sense. Maybe it had something to do with mythology; an idea she had already looked into, and yet that didn't feel quite right either.

Uranus. Caelus. God of the skies, father of Cronus and grandfather of Zeus, Hades, Poseidon, Demeter, Hera... She knew the myths. And they felt just like that; myths. Anything and everything that had something to do with mythology felt like nothing more than make believes and explanations of ancient civilizations. As fascinating as she may find said stories, she had a feeling those were far from whatever truth these dreams of hers held.

The god of the skies part did feel a bit more accurate, though. She had always felt some sort of connection to the skies, to the wind. So maybe these myths were variations of an even more ancient history. Mouth to mouth tales that had somehow mutated into what the modern world knew about Greece and Rome and old, ancient religions. And it wasn't such a crazy thought, either; religions were pretty much created by men, passed mouth to mouth through generations. Variations, omissions, and changes that would serve those with power were doomed to happened. And maybe because of these variations, this ancient era in which such things as life in other planets was possible and quite real had never reached modern times.

It was a wild guess, and she knew it. But it seemed plausible.

Turning to her side again, she hugged her pillow, letting out a tired sigh. She really didn't have much to go by this far. All she had were feelings and conjectures and vague ideas, and she knew that was nowhere near enough to even begin to understand. It felt as if this past life of hers had a conscience of its own, and it was slowly but surely readying her. And it was the still unanswered question of to exactly what she needed to be ready for what bugged her. Because, whatever it was, whatever this coming Silence really meant and what role she was supposed to play in all of it, she knew, it was some major, life changing event.

And she seriously wondered if she was ready to face that. If she would ever be ready for it.

As her sleepy, tired mind drifted off to dreamland, she held her pillow tighter, suddenly very aware of how empty and cold her bed felt.

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>Sorry for the shorty! It felt wrong to make it longer "just because"

in case you don't know it, the link to the blog is florlolasfics dot blogspot dot com dot ar

About the religions bit. It's not a questioning about faith and each religions' believes in themselves, but rather a questioning on the religion per say. Faith and religion are not the same thing (imo). Based on faith and or certain believes that you may or may not agree with or believe in, religions are human constructions. All of them. And before the Bible, or the Torah, or any other sacred book finally came to be written, the stories they held were told mouth to mouth from generation to generation. So yeah, I do believe some changes had been made during the passing centuries (whether if you want to think said changes were intentional or not, I'll leave that one up to you).

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm gonna burn down in hell for the rest of all eternity for ever thinking that. Heard that one before. Sorry for having my own theories about "unquestionable, absolute truths"...

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**FaintFiction:** the Ferrari F512M or Testarossa (1984-1996) was pointed to be Haruka's (and Takeuchi's) favorite car. The 550 Maranello proceeded it (1996-2001), and then the 575 (2002-2006), and then finally the 559 GTB (2006-present). I tried to do a little update to her favorite car while staying true to the tastes. It had to be a Ferrari. I just did a little research. And yeah, that is a hot looking car…

Oh god… my first fics… I think I said this to someone already. I should probably re-read them and at least fix a few spelling/grammar mistakes. The reason why I don't do that is because I know I'll be tempted to re-write more than just one paragraph, and I have enough stories to work on as it is. Besides, those were my first stories, and I am a bit of a sentimental…. But thanks a lot for the compliment! *blushes* I know it's silly, but it means a lot to me

**PurpleIzzy:** wait… Haruka was not fantasizing about Michiru on last chap! She was drooling over a Ferrari! Not that I blame her, I mean, it is a Ferrari… don't know much about cars, and I kinda like Porsche better, but even *I* can see that car is a beauty. And Haruka being the car-lover she is… it felt only natural, for her to be like that and fantasize about getting her dream car. She's just about to get started on working in her racing career, so you know, she's all greedy and excited. And yeah, there's gonna be some teasing as they get to know one another and get more comfortable around each other… *grins* I'm setting the grounds, here, but it's gonna take a little while longer for the both of them to start openly daydreaming about the other *wink*

**ReaderMarz:** I do believe it's a 'classic Haruka' moment. I mean, the girl has a thing for cars, we all know that. The way I see her, she has 2 big, huge passions in her life: cars, and Michiru. But she's not quite aware of Michi being such an important part of her life quite yet, so that leaves our lovely blonde to dedicate her drooling time to cars :D

**SeraEris:** *rolls in the love* Sorry, babe, you're gonna have to wait for that one

**petiyaka:** my lips are sealed


	11. Chapter 11

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>11<strong>

With fast yet easy strokes, she moved with gracefulness and elegance, letting the water caress her entire body as she met the distance, going around the Olympic swimming pool one more time before finally coming to a rest. With one fast, easy move, she pulled herself out of the water, sitting on the pool's edge. Feet softly and mindlessly splashing around a little as she took her swim cap off, freeing her curls and reaching up a hand, massaging her scalp.

The large clock hanging from one of the walls told her it was almost half past ten, and that she had been swimming for the better part of the last two hours. But she didn't feel tired. Quite the opposite. Even though she had have training with the school's swimming team the day before, and then a full rehearsal with the orchestra for the upcoming recital, and having spent yet another night filled with prognostic dreams, coming to the school's pool this morning to freely swim around was quite reinvigorating.

Because of the pressure and responsibility of the recital, playing the violin almost all day yesterday hadn't been as mind relaxing as it usually was for her. At least not when practicing with the whole band. The director had insisted on her playing a solo piece, confident enough in her talent and abilities, even though there were less than two weeks left before the annual spring recital at the Shinjuku Park. She didn't particularly mind about the sudden decision, and she knew it was too much of a good opportunity for her to pass. But still, her violin hadn't been much of a help to ease her mind.

The doors swung open, and a group of young girls walked in, but she paid them no mind.

As captain of the swimming team, she had a key to the pool and could come in either to practice or just to relax a little whenever she wanted to as long as coming here wouldn't interfere with her studies and obligations. And as long as she did not come here after curfew. The pool was usually closed in the mornings, since all girls had classes and were not supposed to be here at all. But she knew the doors would open up earlier on the weekends, at exactly and religiously ten in the morning, for young girls to have access to all school's facilities during their stay here.

Though most girls her age or older preferred to go out on the weekends, the young ones, specially those whose parents were abroad for whatever reason, were not allowed to get off campus. And the weather was just starting to get warmer, and the pool became quite the hang out place during the weekends around this time of the year.

Which was why she came here earlier. She had nothing against the younger girls. They were still too naïve and cute to fall right after their seniors' steps. But they were usually loud and kind of noisy, and she much preferred coming here when it was more quiet...

"Did you hear about that weird accident at T.A.?" a girl's voice reached her ears.

"Yes!" another one exclaimed, loud enough for her to hear them, even though they were all the way across the pool from her. "My cousin told me about it! She says they found the sisters' corpses right there, burnt to ashes!"

"Instant combustion," another one said. "I heard something about that. It was during their festival, right? That's what happens when you get witches and palm readings..."

"I think it was aliens," the first one said. "And then there was this huge fight, and the Senshi arrived and..."

Deep sea blue eyes went wide opened then, and she closed her hands tightly around the pool's edge as the world suddenly dissolved around her.

She found herself going up the entry steps of that white, marvelous palace she had seen in that vision two days ago. Her heels echoed softly with each step she took. The cold, yet gentle breeze met her bare legs, making the pleated miniskirt fly around her. Her long curls danced behind her as she made her way up, smiling and then curtsying to the woman standing at the top of the small stairway.

She couldn't see her face, yet she knew, the tall woman in the light purple, fitting dress was beautiful beyond words. She irradiated kindness, and there was an immaculate, serene aura all around her as the woman extended her arms to her.

"Neptune," the soft, melodic, loving voice called out to her. "So glad you could make it."

"My Queen," she heard herself saying, as once again she curtsied to the woman in sing of respect. "I have the reports you asked…" her own voice came again, in a soft, polite tone, filled with respect towards the tall, immaculate woman.

"Not now," the woman, the Queen, interrupted her. "You must be tired after such long journey. I shall arrange a room for you to rest," the woman said, as she turned around to make her way into the Palace, while gently gesturing for her to walk with her.

The kindness in this woman's voice told Michiru she truly cared. She was honestly worried for her wellbeing after such a long journey, even though Michiru wasn't sure how long said journey had been exactly, where had she came from, or where this strange vision of hers was taking place at. All she knew for sure was that this woman's concern was real, and Michiru felt touched by it, though she wanted to assure this strange, yet somehow familiar woman that there was no need, that she was not tired at all.

But as she moved along this woman, this beautiful, tall Queen, Michiru realized her words would not reach her lips. An alarm ringed in her head, as she tried to make her own body respond to her commands to no vain.

"Sailor Uranus just arrived as well," the Queen was saying, smiling gently as they walked through the corridors.

She felt her heart jump inside her ribcage in pure excitement at the mention of the name. Her stomach flipped and a thousand butterflies came to life. Just because of the mention of that one name. But her face, her posture, nothing in her exterior reflected the sudden change inside her. A change she wasn't sure she fully understood.

Why was she trapped inside her own body like this? Fully aware, but unable to do anything at will.

Her legs carried her, and she could feel her own heartbeat and breathing. She could feel everything; the skirts brushing against her thighs as she walked, her hair dancing behind her, the strong yet soft material covering her upper body, her gloved hands resting at her sides, and the material of her shoes gently nesting her feet. Her heels softly clicking against the floor, echoing through the marble hallway. She could feel everything, yet she could not control her own body.

"I understand you two became close during your Senshi training," the Queen's soft voice reached her again.

She felt herself nodding, and her inner self -her real self- gasped at the mention of that word. Her vision became blurry again as everything around dissolved and changed, and she felt dizzy, disorientated. She embraced herself, in a sudden moment of fear, not knowing where this weird vision of hers was taking her next, not knowing what she would see or hear or feel, and unsure of whether she wanted to find out or not.

And when everything around her finally became clear again, and she found herself at some balcony, staring up at the night sky, she gulped. Though she knew her body was still not answering to her mind's command, she felt her eyes going wide opened upon the sight in front of her blue eyes.

Bright, wide and beautiful, the earth stood in the middle of the nightly sky, proudly.

_What the hell?_

A light touched against her bare arm made her body shiver, and she closed her eyes. A warm, tingling feeling spreading all over her body as a gloved hand ever so softly caressed her skin. The back of long, slender fingers barely brushing against her arm, and she commanded her eyes to open up with no success.

"I knew you'd come," was the soft, husky, velvet like voice that caressed her ears, as she felt her own lips curling up into a soft, small smile.

"It is my duty," she heard herself saying, as she felt the person behind her moving to stand next to her instead.

Her body immediately regretting the lack of warmth, and she opened her eyes, staring up at the blue orb in front of her eyes once more.

"The reports, I know," her companion said.

There was a lingering sadness in the softly whispered words. An undertone, concealed, contained. A controlled sadness that she easily picked up on. Her heart sank in and that same sadness filled her entire being for reasons she couldn't comprehend, as she suddenly found herself fighting the urge to cry.

"If you could change destiny," she heard her own soft voice, slightly quivering in uncertainty, "if you could chose to be free of duty… would you? Would change anything?"

"To be someone else?" her companion asked, in a thoughtful tone. "No, I wouldn't," was the answer, after a moment of silence. "I don't think I would know how to _be _someone else."

Again, she felt her heart sinking in, deeper this time, and she took a deep breath in order to keep her tears from flooding down her cheeks. Her eyes going from the Earth shinning up in the sky to her own gloved hands resting on the marble railing.

"That's not what I meant," she heard herself saying. "I wouldn't change a thing about you…"

"I know what you meant. But I still wouldn't change anything, even given the chance."

The words ignited curiosity, as much as they pained her. She could feel it, deep within her, as her gaze turned from white gloved hands to the tall woman standing next to her.

Long, strong yet slender arms easily resting at her sides; white gloved hands over the railing. She noted the long, slender fingers, looking elegant and somehow knowing they were soft and caring, just as they were strong and unforgiving. And she noticed the yellow ribbon on her chest gently dancing with the night's breeze, and the dark blue pleated miniskirt caressing strong thighs, leaving seemingly endless legs, pearly white and incredibly soft looking, bared and exposed.

And she noticed the strong aura all around the tall woman. Surrounding her, but coming from deep within her. As if her very essence was just as strong, hard, unyielding, and so beautiful, just like the sword hanging from her hips.

She noticed all these, and felt like growling when she also noticed that, even though her blue eyes were gazing up at the woman's profile, for some reason, she couldn't see it. She couldn't see the woman's face, as she looked up at the same blue orb she herself had been looking up just moments ago.

"Destiny placed us here, and the decisions we've made and paths we've taken made us who we are," the woman said, softly and huskily. "I'm a Senshi. It's not all I am, but none the less, it is a part of me. It makes me who I am, and it is an honor as it is my duty, and I would never change that."

She nodded her head, gazing down at her folded hands over the railing once more.

"It's not my duty or my destiny what I wish I could change," the woman continued. "If I had a choice, I would still keep guard over the frontiers and serve the Moon Palace. But if I could, there is one thing I would change," the husky, soft voice made her look up into the unseeing profile once more, as the woman turned her face to a side to look at her.

And she wished she could see her eyes right now.

"If I could, I'd make it so that I can be who I am, fulfill my destiny and keep guard, with you by my side."

She felt a soft, gloved hand moving, reaching out to her own. Long, slender fingers gently brushing against hers, tenderly. It was a soft touch, and it made her heart sank in even more, as her own fingers moved in response, softly caressing the slender hand in return.

"Uranus…" she heard herself whispering softly.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her, but she ignored it. She wanted to somehow look up and be able to look at this woman. She wanted to see her face.

"Miss Kaioh!" a young, urgent voice called out to her.

She thought she saw a flash of green and gold before the tall woman disappeared right in front of her eyes. The balcony they were standing on being replaced by the pool's facilities; the earth shining proudly in the sky, replaced by the sunlight pouring in from the wide windows. And she blinked several times, surprised at the sudden change of scenery in front of her eyes, as she focused her eyes into the light gray ones now worriedly gazing up at her.

"Miss Kaioh, are you alright?" the girl asked again, with concern filling her young voice.

She was wearing the school's swimming suit uniform. With the swim cap hanging from the suit's leg trim, her wet black hair cascading down her young shoulders, the girl was squatting down next to her, looking at her with wide, worried eyes. Another girl, inside the pool, was looking up at her just as worriedly, and Michiru could sense the rest of the bunch standing behind her, probably giving her the exact same worried look.

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied, putting on her mask once more. Her face reflecting nothing but poise and calmness.

"Ok…" the girl mumbled, unsure. "You seemed kind of… off, just now."

"Are you feeling dizzy or something?" the girl chopping around in the pool asked, frowning worriedly. "Like, having some sort of seizure or something?"

As a part of her told her that, if these girls were only a few years older, there would be a mocking tone to their questions instead of just concern, and she tossed that thought aside, she smiled at the young girls. They were still too innocent to fall into that routine, and they seemed to be genuinely concerned about her. It made her wondered how long had she been out because of this strange vision of hers.

"No, no, nothing like that," she assured them, smiling gently. "I was just thinking."

"About a boy?" another girl asked, eagerly, as she squatted down next to her as well, smiling widely and curiously.

A boy? Oh no, there were no boys in her visions, dreams, or whatever those were. Not at all. Just one tall, mysterious woman she could never really see, and with whom she seemed to have had some sort of romantic involvement with.

The feeling of the woman's warmness, of her tall, strong figure lingering oh so close to her, enveloping her, filling her in the strangest, most curious of ways numbed her senses once more, and she felt her own cheeks burning at the feeling.

Who was this woman, anyway? And what was it about her that made her feel like this?

"Kohaku!" the girl with the gray eyes and black hair, who by all means seemed to be the leader of their small group, scolded her friend. "That was inappropriate!"

"Sorry!" the girl, Kohaku, apologized, blushing in embarrassment.

"It's alright," she said, now giggling softly at the girl's burning cheeks. "Kohaku, right?" she then said, smiling. "No, there's no boy. I'm afraid I was thinking about something much less thrilling and interesting."

"You seemed pretty into it," the girl pointed out, tilting her head to a side and frowning curiously.

"Well, it is thrilling and exciting to me," Michiru offered, smiling again. "I have a recital in a couple of weeks, and I'm a little nervous about it."

That was a lie.

She was not nervous about it, not in the least. But it seemed a much more convenient, plausible thing to say than the truth. Because really, how was she supposed to even begin to explain what these strange visions and dreams were all about, when even she wasn't quite sure of what they meant?

A part of her told her she shouldn't even bother in giving any kind of explanation to these girls. But the wide eyed, smiling faces around her were worth it, and she knew their curiosity was too naïve, too honest and well intended. It reminded her of that old small little fantasy of hers, when she used to longed for a younger sister. Someone to share her world with, to show her art, to have long talks into the night. Someone that would see beyond the names, the money, the social status, and see her for who she really is. Someone to love, and protect, and dot.

She had wanted a sister for so long. She knew her parents were never going to give her any sibling; they barely ever saw each other, and she was sure they knew better than to risk their status and name with an extramarital offspring. Still, she had dreamed about it for long.

"Right! You play the violin, right?" the girl still splashing around in the pool said; big, wide eyes looking up at her, as Michiru nodded her head. "And you also paint," the girl said, more like a statement than an actual question, though the aquamarine girl still nodded her head. "Your life is so perfect! Like a fairytale!"

The chuckle that escaped her at the girl's words sounded a little bit too bitter to her own liking. She was still shaken by that strange vision, confused over the meaning of it all, and though she knew the girl meant well, those words couldn't be farther away from the truth. As of right now, she was quite a mess, and even if she did put up a mask and act her part down to perfection, it still bothered her that people were so easily fooled by it.

That was all everyone ever saw in her; the perfect little modern princess, impeccably poised and well mannered, living a well off life. Her music and her art were just little, insignificant additions to a nice looking package; hobbies that if anything, only made her an even more perfect little young woman. That was all she was to the world; that was her part, and sometimes -like right now-, it bothered her that no one was able nor willing to see beyond the pretences.

Well, someone did.

A soft, small smile came to her lips as that last thought crossed her mind.

Her new found friend was perfectly able to see behind the masks. Maybe a little too much, but still. It was nice to know that someone out there was able to see her for who she really was, even if right now, with all these dreams and visions, she wasn't quite sure who that was. But she was sure her new friend would still see her and accept her, no judgments or ill intentions, and that knowledge, that strange certainty was both refreshing and relieving.

"I so want to be like you when I grow up," the girl in the pool was saying, taking Michiru out of her own head and back to reality.

She smiled softy to the girl, tilting her head to a side. "You shouldn't want to be me," she said softly. "Or anyone else. You just need to find yourself, and be true to it."

Funny. Here she was, wondering who she was and what role was hers to play in this life, and advising young girls to find themselves.

It was a good advice. One she wished someone had given to her when she was their age, even if she could never really be herself openly. Not to her parents, not to her classmates. And certainly not to the never ending list of suitors that only saw a name in her. But, strange visions aside, she had been able to find what she was really passionate about, and couldn't help but think every young woman out there should be giving the chance to do exactly that; find their own path, in their own way and pace, without having someone taking decisions for them all their lives.

"You're so smart," the girl named Kohaku said, with an awed expression all over her young face.

Again, Michiru chuckled, as she moved to stand up. "I'll leave you girls to enjoy the pool," she said, excusing herself, taking her forgotten swim cap and the towel she had previously left over the benches, covering herself with it.

"Have a nice day, Miss Kaioh!" one of the girls said, soon followed by a cheerful echo of well wishes and goodbyes, as she smiled to them one last time, slightly bowing her head in goodbye before walking through the door, stepping right into the changing room.

A frown coming to her features the minute she found herself alone in the large, empty room. Mindlessly, she rearranged her still wet hair with her hands, to then take off her swim suit, replacing it with the underwear and clothes waiting for her in her locker. Her movements were mechanic, out of inertia, as her mind went once more to those strange dreams and visions.

While starting as an every now and then thing, the dreams were chasing her almost every night now, and she was starting to have these visions in bright daylight too, while being wide awake. It was as if something was trigging these visions, these dreams. Or maybe it was the urgency…

That last thought was unsettling. If time was something she was starting to lack of, then she was afraid she wouldn't be able to figure things out before it was too late. She had a feeling she didn't have much time, but she had no idea of how much time she had exactly either, and whoever this mysterious woman she kept on half seeing was, she was aware of the fact that she needed to find her as soon as possible.

She frowned again, tilting her head up and staring at the ceiling, as her stomach sunk in nervousness. If these dreams and visions weren't just a product of her imagination and she was not just losing her mind, then it seemed quite obvious to her she had have some sort of romantic involvement with this mysterious woman in some far away, distant past. And she couldn't help but wonder what did that past mean when translated to the here and now. Forgetting about the important matter of this woman's identity and with no clue of how to find her, Michiru couldn't help but wonder, would this woman want to pick up this romance of theirs right where they left it? Where did they leave it, exactly?

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>So, so sorry for the big delay! It seems my muse has decided to ditch me. So if any of you sees her, please tell her I miss her?

It's so frustrating! It's not even writer's block (I think?), because I know what I want to write and how I want things to develop. But when I sit down to get to it, I just can't write!

Anyway! Hope you guys still liked this chap!

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**TenohandKaioh:** yup, I'm aware of the Testarossa being Naoko's fav car as well. I just did a little update on that, and the Fiorano is kind of like the new version. I figured Haruka would be into new, cool, hot looking cars, and a newer version of the Testarossa seemed like a good option. And, nope, not following the Anime here, at all. It's all Manga based. I even put a little Manga details here and there, but if you've never read it then I guess it can easily escape anyone… Still not sure if I'm gonna let the other Senshi in on this one. Maybe on the very last few chaps. But that's a big fat maybe… There's a lot of stuff I want to put in this one to make it fit the Manga, so, I don't know… for now, the only important fact to keep in mind is that this takes place during the Black Moon arc.

**ReaderMarz:** Oops? Hey, at least you had a nice image jumping in your head on your way!

**stefanlucas:** and this is what I meant when I said you shouldn't be reading my stories at work. So don't blame me! I should warn you, though, there's gonna be some more chaps like the last one, so you may wanna reconsider your reading place…

**FaintFiction:** I have had "interesting" dreams from time to time, and let me tell you, waking up *alone* in your own bed and all turned on is no fun… I imagine doing that while trying to figure out who you are (in more than just one way…) and having dreams that are not dreams but actually memories from past lives, all while still being a teenager… Let's just say I wouldn't want to be Haruka!

**imjce:** first off, you're insane. Seriously! I don't understand half the crazy talk you do! (which *might* be an indication of me being slow… but shhhh, other readers hadn't caught up to that one yet!). Second, I'm disappointed! That was not Michiru! That was Haruka's dream! And you're not the first one making that mistake… crap, maybe I wasn't clear enough on that one…

**SeraEris:** sorry babe, but this is all Michi's getting for a while as far as memories go. But don't worry, I won't be sparing her for much longer… *evil grin*


	12. Chapter 12

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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**A.N.:** I just realized it's been 5 months since I last updated this... But don't get your hopes up. I'm seriously, ridiculously busy right now. In fact, I should be finishing a project (or sleeping… that would be a really good idea…), so I have absolutely no idea when I will be able to write next chap.

This chap was particularly hard to write. Mainly, because I don't know shit about cars, only that they have wheels, doors, and a gearshift. Uh, and seats! So bear with me on this one and be nice, ok? I could have skipped this entirely, but it kind of adds to the story and the characters so…

Enough with the babbling! Here it is! Hope you like it enough to forgive me for the (past, and upcoming) delay…

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><p><strong>12<strong>

The aloof, relaxed smile decorating pinkish lips surprised him. It was a charming, confident smile, one he had seen many times before. One that surely would turn a heart or two into a melted little pudding. Again, something he had seen happening before.

Maybe it was in the genes or something.

But it still surprised him. He was expecting her to show up with that same excited, happily greedy smile she had giving him three days ago, when he first told her about this test. Though nicer in her, it was the kind of smile that usually decorated all faces of all kinds and shapes whenever wannabe drivers first walked into his pit. The kind of smile that let him know this was what the wannabe wanted and dreamed of, while also letting slip they were so excited they could barely contain themselves. Which was why many wannabes never went anywhere beyond just that. If they couldn't control themselves, their excitement and the adrenaline rush that inevitably came when tightly and surely grabbing the wheel, then chances were, they would not be able to handle the car properly, let alone ever face a real race.

The aloof smile was still there, though now accompanied by an attentive, serious frown, as she carefully listened to what one of the mechanics was telling her, introducing her to the car she would be driving for the test. Sure enough, there was an excited light happily dancing in shining green eyes. And Kuro knew she was probably putting up an act and was, in truth, just as nervous and excited as any other wannabe racer that has ever walked through that door. And considering how often others failed on doing just that, on simply controlling themselves, and how well she seemed to put herself together and set her mind into the task at hand, he took it as a good sign.

A good sign he surely didn't like…

Sure, it meant she was able to control herself, not riding her wave of excitement and then getting all distracted. Which also meant she would probably be good at picking a lane, driving steadily, and -most importantly- staying safe and alive. But it also meant she would probably be -at least somewhat- good at this.

And, well, he wasn't quite sure he wanted her to be or not.

"A girl?" the brunette standing next to him whispered, making him turn just in time to see the tall, built young man frowning. "You want me to race against a _girl_?" he repeated, eyebrows coming together in wonder, and a bit of amusement and arrogance that Kuro didn't miss.

He arched an eyebrow then, unable and unwilling to fight off the condescending smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Why? Afraid of getting your ass kicked by a girl?" he taunted.

The brunette snorted, rolling his deep blue eyes. "Please! I'm not afraid of anything," he assured him, "least of all a _girl_."

"That's no good, boy," Kuro said, shaking his head. "Every man should be afraid of something. Is what keep us human," he advised, eying the young tall man. "Could be anything, like, I don't know… death…" he trailed off, before the mocking, condescending smile came back to his aging features. "Ghosts, aliens… the big, ugly monster under your bed…"

Blue eyes rolled at him at that. "How old do you think I am? Ten?"

"Well, Fuchida, you do play the part awfully often," he teased, laughing out, hard and loud, at the now frowning, and quite obviously insulted face looking right back at him.

The sound of his laughter, deep and rich, rumbled all through the place then, making curious green eyes look up and his way for a moment before the mechanic got her full attention again. Calming himself down, and quite pleased with the seriousness and commitment she seemed to be taking things so far, he shook his head, patting Fuchida's shoulder and putting on a serious front once more.

"Don't worry about her," he said. "You just worry about getting in there and testing that new engine. I need you to pay attention, alright? I need to know if it's as good as I think it is."

"You think that's fair, Matsumoto?" Fuchida asked, frowning now. "Me, out there, with this new super fast engine of yours, and her being just a little beginner?"

Kuro smiled at that. "Who said your car is the only one with the new engine?" he asked back, arching a half amused, half mocking eyebrow. "We need all the data we can get."

"You really think she can handle it?"

He took a deep breath at the question, asking himself what to answer to that. Did he think she had what it takes to be a racer? Maybe.

Probably.

Did he want her to have what it takes? He honestly didn't know the answer to that one.

"Like I said, don't worry about her," he simply said. "You just get out there and do your thing. Just… play fair, alright?" he soon added, warningly. "Don't corn her up. I don't want any nasty accident."

"You want me to give it all or not?" Fuchida asked, smiling in faked innocence.

"You can do that without sending her straight to the stands."

"Aw, come on!" the brunette complained. "When have I ever…"

"She's a newbie, Fuchida. She has no experience," Kuro interrupted him, in that commanding tone that left no room for arguments. "If you close in on her, you and I both know that's exactly where she might end up."

Fuchida shook a shoulder, dismissing the entire subject, playing it down, and he took a deep breath, massaging the brick of his nose. He knew the brunette well enough to trust he would do as he was told.

He was a bit of an old fashioned man. For him, blocking and cornering other drivers to outrace them was not exactly fair play. Not to mention, doing it on purpose could easily end up on an accident. With such a high speed and cars being so near, accidentally touching the other car -or worst, wheels touching- was most likely the consequence of such a maneuver, with severe injuries or even death as an end result.

It was something racers did more often nowadays, even though all the major leagues and motor racing organizations clearly stated deliberately blocking another racer as strictly forbidden. Still, some racers did it. And though Fuchida usually kept himself within limits, reaching his opponent's car just enough to force them to let him get past them, yet masterly keeping the distance to avoid any nasty accidents, he knew that, with Haruka on the other car, that could just as easily be a tricky maneuver.

She just didn't have the experience yet. And track and field was not exactly the same as racing cars. Sure, he could only guess two runners accidentally crushing against each other at such speed could be quite hurtful. And, depending on how they end up landing on the floor, the end result of that could be several different bones broken and one hell of a lot of pain. But, again, racing cars was different, and the end result of such collision could easily end up six feet under.

"Fine," Fuchida said, raising both hands up in the air in defeat. "I'll stick to my own thing and try to keep my distance. Happy?"

"Hey, Matsumoto," came the well known husky voice from behind them, making the both of them turn around to the tall blonde girl. That aloof smile turning into a smug grin. "Fuchida," she then said, nodding her head to the driver and extending her hand. "Haruka Tenoh."

Fuchida let out a long, loud whistle at the name, returning the smile with a smug, cocky one of his own. "Well, hello, there," he sang. "A Tenoh, huh?"

She shook a shoulder, unaffected. "Could be worse. Are we doing this or what?"

.-.

He smiled.

He wasn't stupid. He knew Matsumoto and the late Tenoh used to be friends, and he knew it was only a matter of time before this girl to become Matsumoto's protégée. All she had to do was prove to be worthy of such privilege. And he was curious to find out if she did, indeed, have what it takes.

Tall and slender, with her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and green eyes shining in the sunlight, wrapped around a red suit that marked a thin waist and let him know there surely was a strong, probably well developed, toned body under it. She was young, and he knew it. One quick look was enough for him to know she was not just a pretty face, and there seemed to be no bubbly personality in there either. Which was good, because, as much as he liked exactly that kind of girls and the company their offered, those girls belonged on the stands, not behind the wheel.

But the look in her eyes...

Yes, she was a pretty girl, he was not blind. But what he liked about this one was that look in her eyes; that light dancing in green orbs that spoke of boldness, of just the right amount of wildness -and then maybe some more-, and he liked that.

He was going to keep it fair and safe; he didn't want that pretty face to go to waste. But just by looking into those green eyes he knew, she was expecting him not to make it easy. To make it real.

She was challenging him.

"Let's see what you've got," he said, nodding his head and taking his helmet, making his way to his car.

But before he put the helmet on, he heard her voice, clear, husky, and inviting.

"Bring it on."

.-.

The moment she hit the pedal, she could have sworn she heard a choir of angels singing somewhere in the background. The roaring of the engine, the enthralling vibration of the car as it speed off, it was all pure ecstasy.

She was so caught up in the moment, speeding down the track and feeling every single vibration of the purring machine enveloping her, that it took her a few moments to realize this was it, it was really happening. But those few seconds were enough for Fuchida to speed up and leave her behind.

_Damn it_, she cursed, stepping on the pedal and tightly and surely grabbing the steering wheel.

"_Take it easy, kid,_" Matsumoto's voice came in from the speaker inside her helmet. "_Take your time, feel the car._"

"Oh, I'm feeling it, alright," she whispered, as her trademark smirk came to her lips, and she accelerated some more.

.-.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, as he kept his eyes glued to the screens in front of him.

"What are you grunting about?" the switch operator said, grinning, as he pointed at one of the screens that showed two speeding cars side to side, fighting off to take the lead. "It's going great."

He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. True to his word, Fuchida was keeping it clean, keeping to his own lane, not once placing his car right in front of the other. And the blonde was not making it easy for him to do so anyway, keeping her own car literally right next to Fuchida's.

He knew he should be paying more attention to the technical part of the on going race, but he couldn't help but keep his eyes glued to the blurring red car. His breath getting caught up in his throat when they reached the last corner and he saw, somewhere in between amazed and simply terrified, as the car got past the acceleration zone without braking.

.-.

He saw her missing her braking point, and smiled.

The girl had guts, there was no doubt about that. And she surely knew how to speed on a car, considering she had kept herself right next to him almost the entire time. But she lacked the experience, and she was going to pay for that in just about a few more seconds.

He easily changed gear right on time to enter the turning point, keeping the wheel steady, readying himself for the lane change that inevitably came with the turn. And he was ready just to do that, reaching the apex and ready to accelerate again, when the red car did something he didn't expect it to do.

"Crazy bitch!"

.-.

It was risky, and she knew it.

She had seen drivers doing it thousands of times. She had memorized the track long ago, performing this exact maneuver in her mind time and time again. It was the best way to earn a few seconds and take the lead.

Getting past the braking point on purpose, she hit the brakes later and then continued to brake into the corner. Fuchida was changing lanes, keeping the car steady at the corner, but she calculated her timing right, easing off the brakes right before the apex, and smiling when Fuchida's car change lane again, as he was probably keeping the wheel steady.

This was it. That was her opening.

A sided smile came to her lips then, only betrayed by that deep, concentrated frown decorating her face. Reducing the steering locks and accelerating again, she went for it.

.-.

He saw her car getting right in front of Fuchida's, at a dangerous, downright insane proximity right at the end of that corner, closing his path and preventing him from speeding off, while speeding up full throttle herself, down that last straight line. And he panicked.

"Holy shit, Kuro!" the operator exclaimed, smiling widely. "Where did you find this girl? Awesome!"

"Damn it!" he growled. "Haruka! What the fuck are you doing?"

The husky, smug voice that came through the speakers made him want to rip his hair off.

"Winning."

.-.

Parking the car back on its place at the pit, she stepped out, taking her helmet off and taking a deep breath. The adrenaline was still rushing through her system and her heart was beating fast inside her ribcage. A gasp escaped her then, as a sided, amazed smile came to her lips; she was thrilled, excited, ecstatic…

But all excitement washed off of her the moment she saw Matsumoto marching up to her. The angry fire in his eyes was enough to freeze her in place, wiping the smile off her face and making her gulp instead.

"What the hell was that?" Matsumoto demanded, stopping right in front of her and looking incredibly pissed as he pointed an accusing, angry finger at the general direction of the last corner on the tracks. "Do you have a death wish, you crazy girl!" he exclaimed, as his entire face went completely red with anger.

And Haruka couldn't help but wonder if he was going to have a heart attack any moment now. And as the thought crossed her mind, she forced the question of how long it would take an ambulance to get to the track off her mind; this was not the right moment to start wondering about such things. Not when the man that could give her the chance she longed for was yelling at her while looking more than ready to jump at her throat and choke the life out of her.

And then she got pissed.

"I did what you wanted me to do!" she defended herself. "You wanted to see if I have what it takes, so I showed you."

Matsumoto stopped yelling then, to stop and blink at her as if she had grown a second head and turned into some big, strange creature or something. "By trying to _kill_ yourself?"

"I knew exactly what I was doing."

"I don't care!" he exclaimed, getting angry again. "You don't pull tricks like that during a freaking practice!" he yelled, turning around and scratching his head as he started to pace around.

She was just about to defend herself again, pissed off at even having to do so when she had just proven herself on the track. And, wasn't this supposed to be a test? Wasn't she supposed to give it her best shot, showing what she was capable of, just because it was a test? Of course she wasn't supposed to pull tricks like that one at a _practice_. She may be a newbie, but she knew that much. And she was just about to say this to Matsumoto, to point all that out and defend herself, when from the corner of her eye she saw Fuchida marching up to them. A frowning glare much like the one Matsumoto's was decorating his young face, though Haruka guessed it was more out of a wounded pride than out of concern expressed as frustrating anger.

He stopped right next to her, eying her up and down. For a moment, she seriously thought he was going to gift her with a nice, big black eye, so when he finally turned to look at the angrily pacing man, she was surprisingly relieved. Not that she was afraid, or unable to defend herself. But she was aware of the fact that getting into a fight with him, with Matsumoto standing right there, was probably the worst idea ever; last thing she needed right now was to get buried deeper into his bad side...

"I thought you said she was a newbie," Fuchida accused.

"She is," Matsumoto said, glaring at her again. "An incredibly reckless, crazy one, at that."

Hard, unreadable eyes turned back to her. "And you've never been on a racing car before?" Fuchida asked, arching a questioning, suspicious eyebrow her way.

She shook her head in denial and was just about to say something on that matter, when Matsumoto beat her to it.

"And you're never getting in one, ever again!" he exclaimed, furious. "What part of 'do exactly as I say' wasn't clear enough for you?"

"You have balls, girl," Fuchida said, completely and royally ignoring the other man. "Welcome on board," he then added, extending his hand out for her to shake.

A part of her brain, the proud bit that was somewhat conscious of her looks, told her the bright, wide smile that came to her lips then surely was making her look like a moron. But she honestly couldn't help herself and found it impossible to wipe the smile off her face as she shook Fuchida's hand. An inexplicable, almost uncontainable sense of pride, of fulfillment washing over her as the young man shook her hand, nodding his head in approval.

"She's not on board!" Matsumoto corrected him. "She's _out_!"

"Why?" she demanded, getting just as furious as he was; her previous sense of fulfillment getting washed away in mere seconds.

"You're too stubborn and you don't know how to follow a simple order!"

"You _promised_," she remembered him. "You promised you wouldn't say I'm out without a valid reason. And I just beat your golden boy!" she finished, pointing at the young man and somehow managing not to hit the floor with her own foot.

"Golden boy?" Fuchida repeated, seemingly amused at her angry outburst. Which in turn only made her even angrier. And he seemed to notice, because he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Don't worry, Tenoh. You're not out," he said, patting her shoulder with one hand. "He's just pissed."

"Stay out of this, Fuchida, or you're out too," Matsumoto growled, dangerously narrowing his eyes to the young man.

"Right," the young man said, obviously not buying the threat. "I'm the best one you've got," he then added, in a rather arrogant tone. But before his tone, words and general posture, hands on his hips and cocky smile, could set Matsumoto's anger any higher, en changed his posture, crossing his hands behind his neck in a more relaxed matter. "She's a natural," he finally said, shaking a shoulder. "If you don't take her in, someone else will."

"What are you still doing here?" Matsumoto then asked, blinking at the young man as if he just realized he was there. "Get out, go talk to Aizawa," he barked.

Fuchida nodded, letting his arms down and taking a step to a side, ready to do as he was told. But before leaving, he looked at her again, smiling. "Tenoh," he called out, winking at her as he turned to leave, "see you around."

She frowned as she watched his retreating back. A part of her brain wasn't so sure she would ever be around again, while the other vaguely wondered what that wink meant. Was he hitting on her or something?

She shook her head at that last thought. Why would someone like him hit on her? It was ridiculous. And kind of disturbing, too; it made her uncomfortable. So she tossed that thought to the darkest corner of her mind, concentrating on more important matters as she turned to look at Matsumoto's frowning face.

"You too, out," he growled.

"But…"

"I can't talk to you right now," he said, raising a hand up and interrupting her. "See you on monday."

He took a step to leave, and she just stood there. Arms hanging from her frame, eyes wide opened and mouth hanging slightly opened. She was sure if someone were to catch this moment with a video camera, they would be able to see the exact moment when her heart and dreams broke into a million little pieces.

And she just stood there, blinking, disappointed, heartbroken. How could Matsumoto dismiss her like that? She had just proven she was more than capable to handle a racing car, and she had just beaten one of the best racers in the entire country! Sure, it hadn't even been a real race, and sure, she definitively needed to improve her timing. She knew she could be much faster; she just needed some practice. But this had been her first time! And that was all he had to say? 'See you on monday'? Like hell she would show up to work on…

"We'll talk about your schedule then," the man added, barely turning his face to a side to eye her.

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, before her smile finally broke into her features again. "So I'm in?"

"Monday," he repeated. "We'll discuss things on monday. And I swear to God, if you ever pull something like that again," he said, turning back around to look at her straight in the eyes, raising one threatening finger her way, "I'll send you to your father, got it?"

The words escaped her completely. She was jumping and squealing at the top of her lungs on the inside, barely managing to keep herself from actually doing that on the outside, and she couldn't form any words. Instead, she just nodded her head several times, unable to fight off the wide -and probably stupid- smile off her face.

Matsumoto seemed to read right through her, because his eyes softened for just a second as he chuckled lightly. But then he got a hold of himself, putting on his frowning mask once more and nodding his head. "Good," he said. "Now, out!" he added with yet another one of his barking orders.

She nodded her head again, turning around and going back the way she came, on her way to the locker rooms. With the smile still dancing on her lips, she barely remembered changing out of the red suit she had borrowed for the day. She was just so incredibly, stupidly happy, her body didn't function well, and changing back into her street clothes proved to be harder than it should be until she finally gave in.

Standing in the middle of the locker room, with nothing but her socks, her yellow hiphugger panties and her undershirt, she squealed. Glad there was no one around to witness such an embarrassing, completely out of character moment, she just got it out of her system.

She jumped and squealed like a happy little five year old.


	13. Chapter 13

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> Alright, I just need to say this! I'm kind of disappointed at no one picking up the little manga based info/action here and there *cries*. Maybe I was being way too subtle, or maybe I just suck at giving hints, but just so you know: this story takes place at the very beginning of the Black Moon arc. To anyone who has that arc fresh in mind, you should be able to know which characters made a (small) appearance so far, and whose school was mention…

Also, someone mentioned something about Haruka's hair (forgot who, and I'm so not in the mood to go through the reviews right now…). Please don't throw any hard, sharp object at me, but our lovely blonde is gonna keep her hair as it is for a while longer. Keep in mind she's not the Haruka we all know and love. Well, she is, but not quite yet (did that make sense?). And as of right now, her hair is the last concern in her mind. But fear not! She's gonna chop it off the second the need to be more herself arise!

Sorry, just needed to 'vent' a little and clear some things out … I'm all done, promise!

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**Neptune's Lover:** I don't really see Haruka as reckless. And I really wasn't trying to make her look like it on last chap. That maneuver is not something newbies do. Ever. It takes practice and knowing what you're doing. Matsumoto freaked out on her because he wasn't expecting her to do that, and he kind of sees her like the daughter he never had… anyway. Just wanted to make that clear. Oh! And thank you for forgiven me!

**petiyaka**: you did *not* put Haruka and Uma Thurman in the same paragraph. You didn't! God! I _hate_ that woman! (Thurman, duh)

**SeraEris**: haven't even thought about it! I just like to make Haruka uncomfortable, that's all. And yes, her sexuality (a.k.a., Michiru) is just about to start showing up…

**Fanficnis**: you're gonna have to wait a bit longer for the stolen kiss to come. There's some tension to build up before that *grins evilly*

**FCrS:** glad to know you won't skin me alive for less-tomboy-Haruka! I may make her have her femme fatale moments (just 'cause I love to have her looking all hot), but all in all, in this particular story, she's no perfect little princess, and she's not particularly inclined on playing the part either. Gosh, a racer fan... I already said I don't know a thing about cars, so... sorry in advance if I make any major mistake!

**TheFalcon:** hi there! Glad to know you're liking this. I find 'old' readers are usually harder to please when it comes to writing. Maybe it's just me, but I'm no little teenager and I have very strong ideas about SM and each and every character, so I'm not easily pleased with just any story... Seems all good writers either moved to another fandom, or quit altogether. So thank you for your kind words! Just out of curiosity, how did you come up with this one?

Alright! Enough with the chatting! Here's the new chap. I know it's short, but I like to think it's worth it (?).

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>13<strong>

The tall teenage girl strolled down the path, lazily kicking a rock on her way.

After her little childish moment of uncontainable happiness, she changed back into her street clothes, putting on the same pencil dark blue jeans, her favorite biker buckle belted boots on her feet, throwing the gray boatneck sweatshirt with kangaroo pocket she had left the house with over her undershirt, ready to head out. But her head was still somewhat in the clouds, and driving around the city had proven to be a bad idea in her state of mind. She wasn't in the right kind of mood to run either.

She wanted to enjoy this.

So instead, she had decided to go for a walk. After parking her car, she had put her cellphone and car keys on her jean's back pockets, taking advantage of the nice, warming sun, not worrying about taking her jacket with her. Sunglasses on, all set and ready, she had simply started walking, letting her feet take her wherever they wanted to go, not particularly having any place in mind and simply enjoying the morning sun in her cheeks and the gentle breeze tossing her bangs around.

She had somehow made it to the park without realizing it, but she didn't mind. She really didn't have anything particular to do, except maybe going back to the Tenoh residence. But that was out of the question; the whole idea of spending the day out, no matter what particular day in the week, was to be as far away from the Brady bunch from hell as humanly possible. Besides, she was enjoying her little moment of laziness, walking around and doing absolutely nothing, glad to be back to her normal, aloof, controlled self as she strolled down the park, hands on her sweatshirt's pocket and lollipop hanging from her mouth.

Maybe the lollipop was ruining the self image a little bit. But she didn't care. It felt right to award herself somehow.

Hence, the lollipop.

It was a silly little tradition her father had started when she was a kid, gifting her with her favorite candy whenever she did something he considered worthy of awarding and celebrating. She had never had much of a sweet tooth, but that particular lollipop was her absolute favorite. While other kids preferred other flavors, like strawberry or cherry, she preferred lemon. The fact that this flavor in particular was yellow had surely a lot to do with that fact; it was the closest a candy would ever get from her favorite color.

Reasons as to why this particular flavor was her favorite as a kid aside, she flipped the lollipop around in her mouth, taking a deep breath and slightly tilting her head up to the sky. With the sun on her cheeks, the wind in her hair, savoring her lollipop, it almost felt as if her father was there with her. Celebrating with her.

She wasn't much of a dreamer, and she wasn't quite sure she believed in ghosts or angels or whatever people were supposed to turn into after death. But she allowed herself the little fantasy. She had no one else to celebrate with, and she knew her father would be proud.

Her mother would, too. Not without some complaining, of course. Though she encouraged her to be herself and never complained about her free spirited nature, her mother always had her reservations about all and any sport or activity of any kind that involved some level of danger. And Haruka still wondered what had seemed so dangerous about gymnastics to her mother…

She chuckled at the thought, lightly shaking her head.

In the end, she would have given in. Haruka was sure. It had always been hard for her mother to say no when father and daughter represented a united front. And the idea of her, of both of them being proud of her, seeing how much it meant to her and how she had done everything in her power to get where she was right now. It was a nice thought. Even if it was only that.

It was far better than the other thoughts that had been occupying her head as of late. Like the end of the world, the ultimate battle of good versus evil and her -theoretical- role in it. Or having affairs with a strange, faceless woman in outer space.

She frowned, lowering her gaze to the bricked path she was mindlessly following. That didn't necessary mean she was gay, did it? She knew a lot of girls went through that phase -or so she heard. Of course, most did it out in the real world, and not in some weird dream. Even if it was, like she was sure, a memory from a distant past life. And if it really was, then it meant her past self was gay, not her. Right?

She was really starting to think she was. She had never been interested in a guy, ever before. And the idea of a guy being interested in her made her uncomfortable.

Shirou and his never ending attempts to ask her out annoyed her to no ends. There wasn't nothing wrong with the guy; she was simply not interested in him that way. At all. And the fact that he seemed oblivious to her -no longer subtle- rejections to all his invitations was starting to irritate her.

And then there was that episode with Fuchida earlier that day. That had been just weird. Considering guys like Fuchida usually went for cheerful, girlie girls that were the complete opposite of her, why would he ever hit on her? It didn't make any sense. But she could recognize a flirty wink when she saw one, and that wink he sent her way before walking away had been exactly that. And as stupid, small and insignificant as it was, it still made her uncomfortable.

So maybe she really was gay.

She growled lowly, biting down on the stick of her lollipop. Great, here she was, having quite possibly the best day of her life, and she was ruining it with a bunch of what ifs. All because of a stupid dream.

She needed to find a subject of interest…

-.-

With the gentle breeze of the midday gently blowing all around, caressing her hair and making her long curls dance, she let it all out in her music. With fingers moving fast through her instrument, following no score, no reduction. With nothing but what her troubled mind created, she played, pouring out her every emotion.

That strange vision that had hit her in the middle of the swimming room back on school campus was still in her head. Leaving aside the unanswered question of who that Queen was, and queen of what exactly, or even where was that pure white palace located at and why was the earth -the earth!- shining proudly out on the night sky like that. All questions which answers she considered important, the matter of the mysterious woman and her suddenly almost constant presence in every one of these visions and dreams of hers was what bothered her the most. Even more so than not knowing what was she supposed to do with this mission of hers or how to go about it.

It was unsettling. Knowing there was something she was supposed to be doing, yet not knowing what that was or how was she supposed to do it in the first place.

But really, what bothered her right now was the strange woman, and the fact that she was unable, for whatever reason, to see her face. Yet lately, it felt as if in every dream, in every vision, that faceless woman was there. She seemed to be always around. And strangely enough, whenever she was around, the visions didn't quite feel like dreams. They felt more like memories. Long forgotten memories from a forgotten time, with a forgotten woman.

Yet another unsettling thought.

Yes, the idea of someone out there who was meant to side with her and help her with whatever this mission was all about was not exactly a bad one. It was actually a relief, to know she was not alone on this strange -and still quite unknown- path of hers. But it was the background, the long ago agreement and the story and romance behind it this someone seemed to come with that was unsettling.

She had asked for a helping hand. For a friend, a partner who would walk with her through this strange, dangerous path. And though she still had to figure out this woman's identity and where exactly she could find her -and hopefully find some answers, too-, she wasn't blind to what laid beneath the surface. There was a promise lingering in the air between them, and as comforting as the thought of not having to face this alone was, she didn't want to be held to whatever promises had been made on some past life.

Michiru was quite aware of the fact that, whoever this mysterious woman was, she needed to find her as soon as possible. But besides the fact she didn't know who she was, she also didn't know what her expectations regarding their past and future were.

She knew she was being selfish, and it was probably the last thing to be worrying about. And yes, she had silently asked for help. Any kind of help. But after that dream the other night and that vision from earlier, after sensing a rather serious, implicit relationship that went beyond honest friendship, she wasn't so sure she wanted it anymore. Not if she had no choice or voice in the matter.

And what was even more unsettling; ever since that first dream, she could feel this mysterious, faceless woman's presence all around. It was as if she was in the wind itself, blowing around her, playing with her hair. As a constant reminder of a love affair Michiru wasn't sure she wanted to find out all the details of, let alone continue it.

Troubled, frustrated at her own thoughts that seemed to keep on going around in circles only to confuse her even further, she took a deep breath. Moving her fingers fast through the neck of her violin, she kept on playing, hoping for the music to take her mind away.

.-.

With that last thought in mind, she nodded her head in agreement. That would surely help the cause, one way or the other. Guessing and trying to figure herself out based on nothing was not only stupid, but also pointless. So maybe she just needed to pay more attention and see if there was someone -anyone at all- that caught her eye and attention in a less chaste way.

As if on cue, the moment that last thought crossed her mind, something else caught her attention.

Blinking at the sudden intrusion to her own thoughts, she took her sunglasses off, sharpening her ears and listening to the enchanting sound. And then she blinked again, frowning now as she took a look all around her, trying to find where it was coming from.

It was intense. Strong, fast, vibrant.

And it felt troubled, somehow.

Waving, drifting, wondering, and then fast again, determine and unforgiving. It went from confusion to anger and frustration, to fear and uncertainty. And then it turned wondering, as if waiting for something, only to become confused and frustrated again. That's how the enchanting sound felt like.

Strangely enough, it felt incredibly in tune with her own internal turmoil and frustrations.

Intrigued by the strong, amazing melody and all the emotions its creator seemed to be pouring into it, and curious as to who it was that was playing such a marvelous piece so in tune with her own state of mind, she let her ears guide her feet, following the music.

Past the trees, she came upon a small, hidden gazebo she was sure she had never seen before. And the vision waiting for her there was enough to freeze her on the spot; eyes wide and opened and mouth hanging half opened. Because standing in the middle of the gazebo, violin under her chin, eyes closed and with a concentrated frown decorating her otherwise soft features, the one playing the enchanting music was none other than Michiru Kaioh.

Wearing a mid-thigh length camel colored, off the shoulder sweater dress with three-quarter sleeves, and with matching slouchy leather boots, she moved to the rhythm her own fingers were setting. The wind was dancing in her hair, the rays of light pouring in from trees and branches created an intricate pattern over the gazebo, and the enchanting music, it all came to her as a vision from a dream. And she was suddenly afraid to move, to breathe and break the spell.

Like a sailor, she felt victim of this mermaid's song, and she just stood there, amazed, listening as the girl in front of her played, vibrant, alluring, waving, and simply amazing.

.-.

It was bothering, to say the least. Feeling someone she had never met on this lifetime, whose face she could never see, whose voice she could barely recall, and yet knowing, with a surprising certainty, that somehow, she was all around her.

And suddenly her presence became almost palpable. She was there. In the wind itself, playing with her hair and gently caressing her skin like a lover would. The leaves dancing to the midday breeze became her laughter, low, hoarse and rasping, and the air all around her became this woman's voice, whispering into Michiru's ear.

Her presence was so strong, the violinist was unable to ignore it anymore, no matter how much she tried, keeping her eyes closed and concentrating in her playing. And it all made her angry and frustrated.

Who did this woman think she was to intrude her like this? To become the wind itself and invade her senses? And how was it even possible for someone she didn't even know, someone whose existence she only knew because of a dream, to affect her like this?

_Neptune_…

She missed a note. Her vow met the strings in the most unpleasant of sounds, and blue eyes snapped opened as she heard the voice, whispering and distant, though loud and clear at the same time.

The wind blew stronger, making her curls dance around her and she narrowed her eyes against the wild element as her vision became blurry because of it. She thought she saw someone standing under the shadow of a tree, not ten feet from her, and she felt like screaming. She wanted this strange woman and her elusive memory to go away, to leave her alone.

But when the wind suddenly died down seconds later and she was able to see clearly again, she blinked. The shadowy figure suddenly became clear, and she blinked again, surprised. Because the person standing there was not the woman that was haunting her just seconds ago, but a far more pleasant -though still surprising- presence.

"Haruka!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>14<strong>

The girl missed a note, the violin cried out angrily, and the spell broke. And she blinked, suddenly thrown back into the real world almost painfully.

The girl looked at her, and the surprised expression on her soft features suddenly made her feel guilty. As if playing like that, so strongly, so lose and vividly at the same time, was something Michiru only did for herself, to herself, and she had intruded the violinist, invading her privacy by standing there, listening to her playing. The surprised gasp and the way Michiru called out to her only proved that, and the tall girl blinked again, shaking her head and trying to clear her foggy mind.

"Hi," she said, taking a step away from the tree she had been standing under. "Wow..." she then trailed off, as a sided, amazed smile made it to her lips. "You said you were good, but... wow… That was..."

She tried to come up with a word that would describe what she thought of Michiru's playing. But nothing came to mind. No word she could think of could properly describe how touched she felt because of that haunting melody the girl had been playing. It felt so fitting, so accurate and in tune with her own demons, doubts and troubles. It almost felt as if the girl had been playing for her.

And, surprisingly enough, the blonde didn't find that intruding.

"That was amazing," she finally said when nothing else came to mind, regretting her inability to find more accurate words.

But those seemed to be the right words for Michiru. Or maybe she was able to hear the awed honesty through her words, because as blue sea eyes blinked up at her, a light blush came to Michiru's cheeks.

"Th-thank you," the girl said in a low, soft voice, slightly stuttering as she tucked a curvy lock of aquamarine hair behind her ear.

She looked beautiful.

The thought just popped into her head, and she blinked, surprised.

Not that the girl wasn't beautiful; she was. She had known that the moment she saw her walking into that isle, that first day back at the library.

What surprised her was the way it came to her, out of the blue, and how it made her stomach twist and shrink and jump, all at once. It left a foreign, tingling feeling there, and it all made her feel inadequate, out of place. Suddenly, she didn't feel as confident, and it seemed as if she couldn't form a coherent thought anymore or look the girl in the eyes.

Suddenly, she was shy. And it was such a foreign feeling to her, she found she had absolutely no idea of how to react to it.

"How long have you been standing there?" Michiru's voice broke through the strange vortex she had been sucked into.

She blinked, shaking her head and forcing the fog out of her mind. Michiru's playing surely was powerful. But right now was probably the worst time to get lost inside her own little world -and troubles and doubts. Specially when the girl was standing right in front of her, talking…

"Couple of minutes," she finally answered, frowning lightly as she scratched her forehead with her thumb. "What were you playing just now?" she then asked, before the girl could say something herself.

Michiru shook a shoulder. She turned to a side, placing her violin on its case and hiding her reddening cheeks with her hair as she obviously tried -in vain- to brush it off. And the blonde chuckled at how adorably cute -and, yes, beautiful- the violinist looked just now, all blushed like that.

"I was just…fooling around a little."

Two blonde eyebrows went up at that, genuinely surprised at the choice of words. "You call that fooling around?" she asked, pointing at the violin with her lollipop just for good measure.

Michiru looked back up at her, blue eyes wide and blinking, before a small, cute frown came to her features. "Well, yes," she said, still frowning. "I was just... you know..."

"Fooling around," she put in for her, as her sided smile came back to her lips when the red reappeared on Michiru's cheeks. "Well, you have a very beautiful, talented way of doing that."

Michiru's blush deepened, and she chuckled. Man, she looked cute right now.

But she wasn't purposely trying to make the girl blush; she genuinely meant it. She didn't know much about violins, and she was sure she wouldn't even know how to handle one and produce any sound at all other than a painful shriek. But she did know about music, and she could recognize a wonderfully played melody when she heard one.

The girl was a natural. And it suddenly made sense to see her walking around always with her case in hand. For her, it was not only a simple instrument; it was a part of her, of who she was.

And the blonde liked that. It added a certain something to this already quite interesting girl in front of her.

"You're too kind," Michiru said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and lowering her gaze in humble shyness, as she seemed to be trying to fight her blush down.

She chuckled. "No I'm not," she disagreed. "Brutally honest, maybe. But never kind just because."

Giving up on trying to make the red leave her cheeks, Michiru giggled softly, closing the case and taking it before turning around and facing her fully. "Well, then," she said, "your honesty is kind and flattering."

The girl giggled again, softly and melodiously, and she blinked. The fog Michiru's music had created came back and she tried to fight it. She really wasn't use to being even remotely shy, and she really didn't want to be like this in front of the violinist, making a complete fool out of herself.

But as the girl came out of the gazebo to meet her, violin case in hand, something else came to her mind.

Michiru stopped playing.

She had been playing so wonderfully, probably losing herself to her music, and she had not only intruded in her own private world, but she had also interrupted her. And now the girl had stopped. It made her feel guilty, to say the least.

"Sorry to intrude you like that..."

"It's alright," Michiru was fast to say, kindly smiling up to her. And she seemed just about to say something else, when the girl suddenly frowned, looking at her as they started making their way down the path the blonde had just came from. "Didn't you have that test today?" she asked, suddenly. "How did it go?"

Her wide, giddy smile came back, and she didn't even bother on fighting it, or even hiding it. And the girl seemed to be more than able to read right through it.

"So when's the big date?" Michiru asked, in that soft voice of hers that held a teasing, yet approving tone to it.

"I don't know yet," she answered, scratching the back of her head. "Matsumoto was kind of... well, he was pissed at me," she admitted, chuckling as the memory came to her mind. "But he said we'll talk on monday, so..."

"Why was he mad at you?"

"I beat his golden boy," she answered, rather proudly.

"And he got mad for that?" Michiru asked, as a curious frown came to her soft features.

She shook her shoulders. "I proved I really do know what I'm doing, that I'm good at it," she said, not wanting to give the girls details of something she probably didn't understand or wasn't even interested in. So she just offered a more general explanation, leaving behind the small little detail of that last maneuver of hers. "I guess he wasn't really expecting me to be," she explained. "He has a tendency to be a little protective of me sometimes..."

"That's cute."

The blonde chuckled, shaking a shoulder. "Anyway," she continued, "I don't know when I'll be racing for real yet, and I need to train and practice, but you know... I'm getting there."

"Congratulations," Michiru said, nodding her head for good measure as a soft, honest smile came to her lips. "Just let me know when I shall be going down there to cheer on you."

Green eyes blinked at that, surprised. "You actually meant that?"

"Well, yes," the girl answered. "Unless you don't want me to be there..."

"No!" she was fast to say. "I mean, yes!"

"I'll understand if you don't..."

"I do want you to be there," she said, honestly. The idea of Michiru not being there for her first race was disappointing, saddening even. And as a part of her brain wondered why that was, the other part pushed that thought aside, deciding that pondering on it right now was just not the right time. "It'd be nice to have a friendly face out there," she said. "I just didn't think you'd be up for it, that's all. I mean, don't get this the wrong way, but racing doesn't seem to be your thing."

To her surprise and relief, Michiru didn't seem offended with her words. Instead, the girl just giggled softly, tilting her head slightly to a side and up. And that nagging little voice that seemed to have come and take residence inside her head ever since hearing the girl play was determined to keep on pointing the obvious to her, like how beautiful Michiru looked, or how soft and melodious her giggles and laughter was.

"It's not," the aquamarine haired girl admitted. "And I admit I don't know much about it... the leading car is the one winning, right?" she asked, jokingly, as if mocking herself.

She chuckled, amused at the girl's faked ignorance, as she purposely portrayed one of those completely clueless girls the blonde hated so much. Yet, in her, it seemed more amusing than anything; specially considering Haruka knew the girl was everything but.

"Yes," the blonde answered, chuckling.

"Right. See? I knew that," Michiru continued joking. She giggled again and shook her head, making her long curls dance all around her shoulders. "I'm not an expert and you may have to explain a thing or two to me," she said, now smiling in what Haruka thought must be an apologetic way, yet to her it was just cute and sweet, "but I promised I'd be there, so I'll be there."

She was positive the smile that came to her lips then was blinding and ridiculously big and shiny. But she couldn't help herself. The idea of someone she knew being there for her, to watch her and to cheer on her was nice. But just anyone wouldn't cut it. She wasn't as close to her uncle as to ask him to be there, and the rest of her family... well, maybe Kiyoshi. But he was too young yet and he would probably get bored. She didn't really have any close friend in school, and though she knew the guys from Matsumoto's shop would surely be there, it just didn't feel the same.

Michiru was her friend. She was different, and smart, and just something else altogether. And knowing she'd be there for her, to share that moment with her, it meant so much more to her than anyone else she could think of.

.-.

"Great," the tall blonde said, as that sided smile of hers came back to her lips. And Michiru smiled back, slightly nodding her head.

She was relieved.

After the morning she had just had, that vision, and that annoying feeling of this mysterious' woman presence all around her not fading away, she had been actually terrified when she had first opened her eyes and saw the tall figure standing so close to her. Now that she thought of it, she couldn't understand how she could ever mistake her tall friend with whoever the mysterious woman was.

But she hadn't been on her best state of mind, confused, troubled, upset and just so lost. And the idea of this woman suddenly appearing out of nowhere like that, as if stepping out of her dreams or visions or whatever those were, and materializing herself right in front of her.

It was terrifying, really.

Although a part of her told her it was the least of her worries as of now, she couldn't help but want to delay that meeting as much as she possibly could. Sure, finding this woman would help understanding a few things -or so she hoped. But she didn't want to have to face her yet when she still hadn't quite figure out a few things about their past together yet.

She really didn't think it was possible to have feelings for someone just because they shared something on some past life. But she had no idea of how this other woman felt or what she expected, and Michiru herself didn't know for sure what exactly had they shared before.

There were too many questions around this woman, around this mission of theirs and about this entire ordeal, and she just didn't feel ready to face any of it quite yet. So no, of course the idea of suddenly running into this woman hadn't pleased her at all. But to her surprise and relief, the person standing there hadn't been this woman, but her tall blonde friend. And Michiru welcomed the company, not only because it provided a distraction to her own mind, but because she actually enjoyed talking to the tall girl.

"So, not going to the library today?" she asked, curiously. The blonde did seem to be there a lot, when she was not busy doing something else.

"Nah," Haruka answered, shaking her head. "I don't feel like locking myself up today."

"Why do you go there, anyway?"

Green eyes looked at her for a moment, before the blonde hummed, looking up at the sky. "It's quiet," she finally answered, after a moment of silence. "And it's open 'till late."

"And it provides you a reason not to be home," she added for her, guessing.

"That's not my home," Haruka said, frowning as she shoved her hands into the kangaroo pockets of her sweatshirt. "That's just the place I live in until I can find my own."

She didn't say anything to that comment, staring at the bricked path they were following instead.

She could actually relate to that feeling. Her home, the place where her parents lived -or more accurately, her father, since her mother was busy living nowhere at all and travelling all over the globe-, didn't feel like home to her either. And neither did the school, though Michiru figured that was normal.

"Why do you go?" the blonde suddenly asked, making look up into curious emeralds. "I mean, don't they have a library at your school?"

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head. "But there's not much about anything other than old, out dated text books and quite a big section on theology."

"Really?" Haruka asked, kind of surprised. "Isn't it supposed to be a school? Shouldn't they have more than God books?"

"You're going to have to ask Mother Superior for that one," she said, tilting her head to a side and smiling amusedly up to her. "And if you do get a real answer, let me know."

The blonde grinned knowingly. "I take it she can't have young, innocent little princesses finding out the world does not revolve around daddy's bank account and public image."

She giggled at the mocking comment. "Something like that," she agreed, nodding her head. "You certainly know more about the socialites than your looks give you credit for."

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.

She didn't mean to say them like that, and she was certainly not judging the tall girl. But as her blue eyes went wide opened in worry, a husky chuckle reached her ears, and she blinked up to the blonde.

"Thanks," Haruka said, smiling. But then an amused, kind of curious frown came to her soft, define features. "Wait… was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Compliment," she was fast to say. "Definitively a compliment. I mean, you're a Tenoh," she pointed out, trying to explain herself. "Your family owns one of the biggest, most promising, raising architectural studies of the country, and yet you are nothing like any other girl in a similar position to yours."

"I was never really good at that whole 'perfect little princess' act," she said, shrinking her shoulders, yet smiling amusedly at her. "And I always follow my own rules. My parents were perfectly ok with that, and as long as I don't do drugs, get arrested, pregnant, or any other high crime that would irremediably and irrevocably ruin the family name for good," she said, in a mocking tone that didn't escape the violinist, "my uncle is more than happy to just let me be."

Michiru smiled, nodding her head. "Guess we're the lucky ones, then," she stated. But when curious green eyes gazed into her blue ones, she smiled. "We have the money and the family name, yet we are able to see there's more to life than charity galas and parties, and let's not forget, the eternal search for a suitable husband."

The blonde winced disapprovingly for a moment, before chuckling, amused. "Yeah… so how's that going for you?" she asked, obviously more interested in a real, honest answer than in a list of potential suitors. "Found any good one?"

"Not really," she answered, shaking her head. "I still can't decide what I desire more, looks or brain," she stated, smiling when the blonde just laughed. Deep and husky, her laughter filled the early afternoon air around them, and Michiru giggled along with her. "Such a hard choice, really," she said, faking a pout.

"Well, in my years of experience," Haruka started to say, in an openly joking, mocking tone, "I've come to realize there are three types of men," she stated. "The first category is the already taken ones. And it's best not to mess with those, right?"

"Right," she agreed, nodding her head.

"I mean, I would hate to find out I'm being cheated on…"

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," Michiru put in, remembering one of the many, many lectures she received every week at school during breakfast. The nuns were not particularly original with their speeches and the biblical verses they based them on, but at least there was a valid moral teaching behind that one.

Not that many in their social circle lived by it, but still.

"Or in other words," the blonde said, smiling sheepishly, "don't screw people over if you don't like to get screwed."

She arched a questioning, disapproving eyebrow at that, and the blonde just laughed it off, shaking her head, obviously amused.

No, she most certainly didn't fit into the little princess category. And obviously, not only because of her looks…

"Anyway, they're off," the blonde continued. "The next category is a rather large one I like to call the 'brainless dudes'," she announced. "Jogs, mommy's boys, internet and porn addicts, popular and often rich boys with too much free time in their hands," she counted, " and pretty much any other kind you can think of who are only interested in you because of your name, or because you have boobs."

"You're mean."

"Well, it's true!" Haruka defended herself, chuckling. "They all treat girls as possessions, and the only thing that matters to them is how hot you look on a dress, and how cool you're making them look," she pointed out. "Looking hot on said dress," she then added, just for emphasis.

She eyed her then, arching an eyebrow, though still unable to wipe the smile off her lips. She did have a point there, even if her language wasn't exactly polished. She was not exactly foul mouthed, though Michiru guessed the blonde was probably holding back on her behalf.

And for whatever reason, the way the tall girl talked, so freely and without worrying about what others may think, it made her like her even more. She guessed Haruka was perfectly able to play the part and act correctly and perfectly well mannered; she had seen glimpses of that already. But it was this side of her, more raw, more real, that made her all that much more interesting.

And, again, the blonde had a point.

"So if you have no brains whatsoever and think koala bears are actually bears, is irrelevant," she added for her just to put a random example as she nodded her agreement.

"Marsupials," the blonde added for her, nodding her head as well. "And female koalas have two vaginas," she then added, as a second thought. "I always found that kind of… well, weird."

"Me too," she agreed.

"What the hell do they need two for, anyway?" Haruka asked, now amused. "It's not like they can have two babies out of each one at the same time or anything…"

"I don't know," she answered, giggling at the blonde's frowning face. "But males have bifurcated penises, so…"

"That just creeps me out even more…" the tall girl mumbled, frowning and shuddering.

Michiru laughed, amusedly shaking her head. "Well, I was going for the bear thing here," she said, getting the conversation back on track. "Not many people know about them not being bears, let alone about their double sexual organs."

The blonde shook a shoulder at that. "I read."

She nodded her head approvingly. "And that alone automatically rules you out as a desirable trophy wife," she pointed out.

"I know!" the tall girl exclaimed, rolling her eyes in faked exasperation.

The aquamarine haired girl giggled at the blonde's antics, holding her case close to her chest as they reached the park's entry. "So, what's the third category?" she asked, curious.

"The ones that are actually nice and gentle," she answered. "They dress well, smell nice, are usually well mannered, actually have a sense of humor for a change, and they don't live by high society's rules and expectations," she counted. "They usually have brains, too."

She frowned, even more curious now. "And what's wrong with them?"

"They're gay."

She blinked, once, before she broke into laughter. Deeply and melodiously, she laughed, covering her lips with one hand as she did so.

"So good luck trying to hook up with one of them," the blonde continued, chuckling huskily.

"So I take it my charm and beauty and the help of a nice cleavage won't work with them, huh?" she asked, amused over the entire conversation.

"Well, I'm sure you'd look great on a nice dress," Haruka said, shaking her shoulders, "but considering they usually go for completely different body parts… then no, I don't think your beauty and cleavage would help much, sorry."

She giggled, tilting her head to a side and faking a disappointed frown. "So we're back to group number two, then."

"Lucky us," the blonde joked, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," she agreed, shaking her head as they finally reached the street and they stopped, facing one another. "So…"

"So," the blonde repeated. "Need a ride?"

.

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><p><strong>CloudAuditoreFair-SinisterJ:<strong> hi there! *waves hand*. Oh my, you remember the date? Wow! And I do mean WOW! Thank you for your words. Glad to know you're enjoying this.

**j-belle: **I think there's enough Silver Millenium stories out there. And considering there's not much (or nothing at all?) about Haruka and Michiru in that time, it would all be a big fat what if. Which is fine, but it's not the idea for this story. And, again, there's enough anime based stories of how they became a couple, so I wanted to try something a bit different. Lucky me, no one seem to mind much about my slightly more feminine, wearing high heels and with long hair (for now) Haruka, who's probably the biggest 'shock' on this one, considering most ppl tend to associate the characters with the anime. Anyway! Thanks for stopping by and telling me what you think. Very appreciated!

**TheFalcon:** by old, I meant people that had been into SM for longer than, let's say, 5-10 years. I know I have. I fell in love with in when the anime was first aired here in 1996, and I was in seventh grade. So, you know; it's been a while. Like I said before (somewhere…), I'm trying to build them up into what they are and how we first see them in the manga. So I believe that, in order to do that, I need to set the grounds, their lives, their background. For them to find out who they are and make them fall head over heels with each other in a heartbeat seems weird and unreal to me. Neither of them seems the type to just jump into a relationship. To me, at least. I could make it shorter, sure, but every chapter and every situation I throw them into has a reason.  
>The stolen story was not a Haruka-Michiru story. But still. It's something I wrote and I feel particularly proud of, and finding out someone stole it left me feeling hopeless and quite frankly, pissed off, for quite a while. People taking my stuff with no permission and not crediting properly is the reason why I stopped posting art-work andor fanarts on the net. I hate it when people just don't credit, so you can imagine how I felt when someone so openly stole my story… Anyway! Thank you again for reading and for your kind words.

**Alexxx: **funny, I was so sure ppl were going to chase me down to hell for making Haruka less manly. I've been pushing that 'limit' a bit further on each of my stories. Not because I like to go against the flow or anything (which, admittedly, I kinda do), but because I seriously don't see her like that. Yeah, she's a tomboy. But no hard core butch would ever wear a miniskirt and high heels (and lipgloss!) just as comfortably as she wears pants and a tie… Trust me, I know a few. And they all would rather die a painfully slow death than wearing a skirt. And, again, manga based. So this Haruka, unlike anime Haruka, wears minishorts, miniskirts, tight pants, has a thing for cleavages and showing off her fat stomach and slim waist, and has a thing for leather (according to Naoko Takeuchi herself).

**petiyaka &**** FCrS ('cause you both made -sort of- the same comment): **ermmm… yeah, Haruka is trying to find out if she's straight, gay, or trysexual (or Michirusexual?). But you're both wrong on Michiru. And now I'm gonna be a mean bitch and not tell you a thing, because more of that will be coming soon.  
>Oh, and<strong> petiyaka<strong>: about Thurman… I don't know, I just hate her. Always have, and always will. I can't stand her, and my religion (?) does not allow me to watch a movie if she's in it (yes, I'm weird like that). And, you think you're getting blonde because of your job? Tell me about it! I'm turning into a machine! Press play and the little check-list speech comes out… overly sweet tone and everything!

**KireiHaruka-FF:**you kind of gave yourself out with the "I want Michiru to have a wet dream" bit. LOL. You know what? I decided I'm not giving her one. I have something else for our favorite violinist. You know me, evil bitch who likes to mess with our fav couple *smiles innocently*  
>You know what? I'm officially convinced: my muse has the worst timing ever.<p>

**Pawnee15: **thank you for your kind words! Toying with the idea of writing something of my own… For now, hope you like this chap! I do intend to finish this one, I'm just ridiculously busy lately, so… sorry for the delays!

**Comdas:** sorry, but you're gonna have to wait a bit longer for the stolen kiss to come. Have to make them realize they have the hots for each other first!

Alright! This is getting too long... to all the others who bothered leaving a review and letting me know what you think, thank you! Very appreciated!

Sorry for the huge delay on this one! Like I said, I've been really busy! I have a week off class now, so I'm hoping to have a bit more time to write. Though I can't promise what I will write, 'cause I'm kind of working on other stories as well, and I just write what my muse tells me to…. So sorry in advance if it takes me long to update this again .


	15. Chapter 15

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

.

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><p><strong>15<strong>

The occasional random person coughing or the movement of chairs from some other isle or area reached them every now and then. But other than that, the sound of her pencil against the paper was the only sound around.

For reasons she didn't know and wasn't particularly worried enough to bother on finding out, they were sitting down on the floor, on the far end of the isle that had by now become their meeting spot. And the end corner of the L shaped isle did offer some privacy, which suited her just fine as she sat there, with her tall blonde friend sitting right across from her.

Books and bags forgotten on the table, they just sat there in peaceful, comfortable silence. As she was still wearing her school uniform, she sat there with her legs folded to a side. Her friend, on the other hand, was wearing a white, loosen t-shirt with round cleavage, and a red brit plaid shirt over it that just suited her perfectly, front completely unbuttoned and sleeves rolled all the way up to her elbows. Black leggings were covering her seemingly endless legs, and flat, olive colored leather mid-calf boots with a buckle were decorating her feet. Her hair was lose, for a change. Long and untamed, she kept on flipping it from one side to the other with one hand, long blonde strands cascading down her shoulder each time she did so as she worked on her homework. One leg up and resting her elbow over her knee, she would wave her pencil around from time to time as she read the questions, before writing the answer down without once needing to check on the text book laying next to her.

And Michiru would look up at her from time to time, studying her strong, yet delicate features. Admiring the way her long, black eyelashes would caress her cheeks ever so softly every time she blinked; studying the curve of her lips, remembering that sided grin she had gotten so used to by now; her defined high cheekbones and her small, pointy nose, and how it fitted so perfectly with her face.

And her eyes. Those green emeralds were quite the challenge, Michiru had found out. It was near to impossible to capture them correctly.

They had been meeting there, at the library, on that same isle, for almost a month now. They had even established a sort of routine, meeting every Tuesday and Wednesday after school, when they both had the free time to meet, and maybe even Saturdays, when their schedules and obligations allowed them to. And although the blonde always had to leave earlier on Wednesdays because of her part time job, they would always stay until it was time for Michiru to go back to campus. Haruka would always offer to drive her. And though Michiru felt a bit guilty for using the blonde as her personal chauffer, she did enjoy the extra time with her friend.

They always met up there, on that same isle, every time. Sometimes they would spend the afternoon talking about every given subject. She soon found the blonde was a girl with wide tastes, a healthy curiosity, and a never dying interest to always learn new things as long as she found them interesting. And she found almost everything interesting; arts, history, astronomy, politics, alternative and new age believes -not that she followed any, she simply liked to learn about it. Michiru had always thought she was a bit of a greedy sponge, eager to acquire as much knowledge on the most random of things as she could. And her blonde friend was her match, for she was just as eager and curious. And smart, too.

Other times they wouldn't talk at all. They would just sat there in silence, much like they were doing right now, doing their homework or reading a book, and just enjoying each other's company.

Well, Haruka was doing her homework. And though she should, too, she hadn't been able to help it. Instead, taking her sketchbook out of her bag, she had been trying to capture the blonde and her every detail for the past hour or so. And she just couldn't get it right. There was just something about the tall girl she was unable to capture in a portrait, and it was bothering as it was challenging, and she kept on trying.

"What?" the blonde suddenly asked, as that sided smile of hers, albeit a bit awkward and curious, came to the taller girl's lips.

She blinked, surprised at the sudden question, not really understanding what the other girl was asking. And the blonde seemed to notice, for she frowned curiously, tilting her head to a side. Her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulder as she did so, and Michiru frowned at it.

She had beautiful, naturally blonde hair. Not straight, but not curly either, the ever subtle waves seemed wild and untamed, and it somehow fitted her personality. Yet Michiru couldn't help but think she'd look better if she…

"You've been staring at me for the past couple of minutes," Haruka's deep, husky voice got her out of her own mind again, making blue eyes blinked several times. "Is there something on my face or something?" she asked, rubbing long, slender fingers across her cheek and nose.

"No, no," she said, suddenly blushing. "It's not that."

"No?" she asked, still rubbing her cheek and frowning, a bit confused. "Then wha…" she trailed off, blinking for a moment, before green eyes looked at her in what could be considered a mocking glare, though Michiru knew the blonde well enough by now to know, it was actually a self defense strategy to fight off her embarrassment. "Don't tell me you're…"

"I'm what?" the violinist asked when the blonde wouldn't finish her sentence and just stared at her.

"Let me see that," she said, reaching out a hand and grabbing her sketchbook.

"No, wait!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her tone as low as possible.

The blonde just took the sketchbook, and as green eyes scanned through the page, a skeptical look falling all over the tall girl's features, Michiru just lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt nervously.

Haruka hated it. She could see it in her face.

"It's not done, yet," she tried to defend herself. And when nothing but silence welcomed her ears, she dared looking up again. "I know it's not perfect…"

The blonde kept staring at the drawing, blinking a few times, before looking up into blue orbs. She blinked again, opening and closing her mouth a few times, and then blinking again until finally, a frown made it to her features.

"I don't look like this."

"I know, I can't get it right…"

"No, that's not…" the blonde trailed off, shaking her head and staring down at the sketchbook again for a moment, before looking up at her again. "It's great, but, come on! I don't look like this."

She frowned at that. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused now.

She really didn't understand what the tall girl meant. Sure, she had taken a few liberties here and there, going with what she thought would look better. And she hadn't exactly portrayed her in her street clothes, but in a dress. A square cleavage, long, flowing dress that kissed her legs as the blonde seemed to be floating, flying by her own means and will. It seemed more of a drawing taken from a dream of some sort rather than an actual portrait, but still…

"You made me look like some pretty model on a magazine or something."

"I took a few liberties…"

"And, short hair?" the blonde continued, arching a questioning eyebrow for a moment, before shaking her head. "I'll admit I've toyed with the idea of chopping it all off, but…"

She blinked up at that, surprised. "Really?" she asked. "Why haven't you?"

Haruka just shook her shoulders. "Never really got around to actually do it," she answered. "But, come on!" she exclaimed, getting back on topic and pointing at the drawing. "You chopped my hair off, you put me on a _gown_…"

"I told you, it's not done yet…"

"No, no, it's perfect," Haruka argued, shaking her head. "It's beautiful," she said, as a light tint of red came to her cheeks. "But, I don't look like this."

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not this pretty," the blonde insisted, now showing her the sketch for emphasis.

"I draw what I see," Michiru said, now smiling softly and gently at the tall girl. "And that's how I see you."

Green eyes blinked at her, incredulous, as the red in Haruka's cheeks deepened. "This is how you see me," the blonde said, with a questioning, incredulous tone to her voice.

"Yes," she answered, smiling, albeit a bit embarrassed herself. "I know it's not perfect, I…"

"You did all these?" the blonde suddenly asked, as she turned the pages around, looking at all the drawings there.

"Yes."

"Were you nice and flattering to these people too?"

"I told you, I draw what I see," she tried to explained. But when green eyes just stared at her, she titled her head to a side, trying to find a way to explain herself better. Moving to sit besides the tall girl, she turned the pages of the sketchbook Haruka still held in her hands, pointing at the few random portraits of random people in there. "I watch people and I try to capture them, their essence, in a drawing," she explained, as she pointed to a drawing of an old man sitting on a bench in the park, all by himself, and with such a sadness in his face, in his posture, the end result was a rather lonely figure. "Sometimes it's easy, others I have to look closely to find it. But with you…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "There's something wild about you."

"Wild?" the blonde asked, now amused, as her sided grin came to her lips.

"I can see it, but I can't translate it into a portrait," she explained. "I think it's your eyes."

"What about my eyes?"

"I don't know… there's just… something," Michiru said, raising a hand up and tucking one blonde, soft lock of hair behind Haruka's ear, and then gently tossing her bangs aside, clearing soft green eyes.

Really, what was it? What was it that made Haruka so different to everyone else?

Yes, she was smart, and funny, and with a good head on her shoulders. She was a rather private person and didn't trust easily, as Michiru had come to know. She was fast, and fit, and hard working. And, most importantly, she had a mind of her own. But all these were just qualities. They defined the blonde, in a way, but Michiru knew, she just knew, there was so much more to her than that. And she wanted to find out. She wanted to find out all the secrets that laid behind those green eyes that were now staring into her blue ones.

And, yes, she was a beautiful girl, too. In such a unique way that it made the aquamarine girl want to paint her. Her nose, the curve of her lips, her cheekbones, and the little, faint freckles decorating her cheeks; her height, her slim, yet strong physique; her long neck, and her slender fingers. Every little detail about her was beautiful on its own right.

But it was her eyes, their shape and their never ending, ever changing green, and that latent fire within them she had noticed that second day, in this very same isle. It was that light in there, that strength and intensity that was so unique, so captivating. And it was that something that Michiru couldn't quite describe what made the blonde so different. And it was that something that made it impossible for her to do any justice to her portrait.

"Trying to make a portrait of you is like trying to catch the wind."

The words just left her mouth, and she frowned inwardly upon them.

For a moment, it almost felt like one of those visions of hers, where she couldn't quite control her own actions. But as she pondered over it, she realized she meant the words, for the blonde really was like the wind. She was like a rush of fresh air, and trying to catch her essence on paper was just as impossible as capturing the wind.

Green eyes blinked at her, and that red came back to Haruka's cheeks. And Michiru smiled.

Yes, the blonde really was a beautiful girl.

.-.

The words surprised her to no ends.

The rational part of her brains could see the analogy there, and understand what Michiru was trying to explain. But another part of her found the words odd, yet fitting, somehow.

They made her heart filled with content.

Again, a part of her, the part that for whatever reasons allowed the red to go to her cheeks at Michiru's words and drawing of her, felt flattered. Not in an ego busting kind of way, like when someone would tell her she was a wonderful pianist, or what a great runner she was, or even how much of a natural driver she was. Because those were all things she aimed for, things and merits she worked for, and Michiru was referring to something else entirely. Something much more subtle. Something that others didn't see or didn't even bother noticing on her. And whatever it was, Michiru was able to see it.

And comparing her with the wind like that. It almost felt as if the girl was able to see her very soul. And surprisingly enough, the blonde didn't find that frightening, or even invading. It actually felt good, to know this girl she had met in such a random way was able to see something in her, something no one else could see.

But another part, that part she kept on trying to keep quiet so that her demons wouldn't follow her wherever she went to, told her Michiru's words couldn't be more accurate. She had always felt intrigued, to say the least, by the wild element. Wanting to be just like it; fast and untamed, running wild and free.

How did Michiru know?

"That's a rather odd compliment," she pointed out.

"Well, it's true," Michiru said. "You are like the wind. And just as wild."

She chuckled then, lightly shaking her head. Well, she couldn't exactly argue with that.

"So, a violinist, and an artist," she counted, smiling to the girl beside her. "Is there anything you _can't_ do?"

"Ironing," Michiru answered, in such an easy, honest tone, it made the blonde laughed. "It's not funny!" the aqua girl complained, slapping the blonde in the arm. "I've tried, and it's really hard. I can't get the wrinkles out without creating new ones…"

"Well, good thing you're not meant to be a housewife, then," she teased, still chuckling.

"Ha-ha," Michiru said, narrowing her blue eyes at her, as the blonde was by now fully aware of what the violinist thought about being born and raised to fit into a given mold.

"Seriously, though," she said, closing the sketchbook and handing it back to its rightful owner. "You're good. You could have your own exhibition or something."

Michiru tilted her head to a side, slightly shaking her shoulder as she hugged her sketchbook. "There's an art show for school in a couple of weeks," she said. "But I've been so busy with rehearsals…"

"Right, the recital," the blonde remembered, nodding her head. "It's this week, right?"

"Yes, this Thursday," Michiru said, nodding her head, frowning lightly.

"You nervous?" she asked, somehow already knowing the answer to her own question. Michiru was a natural; playing was like a second nature to her, of course she wasn't nervous.

"Not really, I…" the girl trailed off, still frowning as she tightened her grip around her sketchbook. "Would you like to come?" she suddenly asked, in what Haruka could swore was a nervous tone. "I know is short notice, and you don't have to come if you don't want to, but… I have the extra tickets," she finished in a questioning tone as she looked up to her, blue eyes big and pleading.

"No, I… I'd love to," the blonde said, as it was now her turn to frown. "But, aren't you supposed to give those tickets to your family? What about your father?"

The look in Michiru's eyes was all the answered she needed. The girl either didn't want her father to be there, or she already knew he wouldn't go. And there was a bit of disappointment dancing in those blue orbs, making the tall girl feel guilty for even bringing up the subject at all.

"He can't be bothered to such things," Michiru said, shaking her head. "And… I don't know, I thought it'd be nice to have a friendly face out there…"

She could relate to that. She felt the exact same way about her upcoming race. And Michiru did promise to be there to cheer on her, so going to this recital of hers was only fair.

And she certainly wouldn't mind listening to the girl playing her violin once more.

As a member of the Orchestra, it was only natural for Michiru to have extra tickets to give away to her loved ones. And it didn't surprise her that the girl hadn't given her tickets away. Her mother was busy in South America, enjoying a fashion week down there, and the blonde knew Michiru wasn't exactly close to her father. Cousins, uncles, and any other relatives were only to be seen during holidays and birthday parties. Haruka often wondered how come Michiru had grown up to be such a warm, caring, sensitive person in such a cold family environment…

She also knew the aquamarine haired girl didn't have any real friends at school. She knew her roommates had wanted to go and support her, though. But apparently one of them already had some sort of engagement for that evening, and the other hadn't been able to get permission from her parents to be allowed to leave school grounds after curfew. Michiru hadn't seem particularly sad about that, though, which led the blonde to assume that, though she had a good relationship with both her roommates, Michiru wasn't exactly close to either of them.

She smiled. "Isn't there a boy you would rather give those tickets to?" she teased. "Some promising 'could be husband'?"

Even if she already knew the answer to that, and even if she only meant it to be a joke, the moment her words left her mouth, she regretted them.

The idea of Michiru suddenly realizing there was, in fact, some guy out there she would rather have there made the blonde's heartbeat decrease in disappointment. Because, what if there was someone the violinist would much rather have with her on her special night other than the blonde?

She frowned then. Why did that thought bother her?

A part of her brain told her that it would hurt to know that the only real friend she had didn't quite consider her as such. Which was true; even if they had known each other for a short period of time, she was certain that the violinist was her friend. The closest thing to a best friend she could get. And as much as the blonde would love to break the barriers and fully open up to the girl, like best friends did -or so she assumed-, there were things she simply couldn't tell the smaller girl without sounding like a complete mental person…

Yes, it was a very logical explanation. But now that the thought had been brought up, she pondered on it, wondering why it bothered her, why it hurt to think that, maybe, there was some young man reigning Michiru's hopes and dreams. And the only thing that distracted her and saved her from wondering about that any longer was Michiru's elbow hitting her ribs.

"Now you're just being mean," Michiru accused, disapprovingly yet playfully frowning at her. "No need to remind me of the long suitors' list, some of which might actually be there, anyway."

The way Michiru just said that made her chuckle, while feeling sorry for the girl at the same time.

Haruka thought she was lucky enough. Rich young men usually didn't move on the same circles she moved in. And though some may be involved in racing some way or another, specially when it came to sponsoring, she was still a long shot away from getting to that point. And rich, single young men where, as for now, unaware of young, single Tenoh being theoretically available for them to try to sweep her off her feet. A fact she wanted to keep that way for as long as humanly possible; she always liked the idea of getting a first place prize, be it at racing or at track and field, but she wasn't so keen on the idea of becoming one for young men to compete for. That just made her feel like a piece of meat with a name tag on her butt…

Yes, she was lucky. But her friend here wasn't as lucky; she was forced into social events every now and then, and as a member of the Metropolitan Orchestra, she was doomed to be surrounded by the very same kind of men Haruka was trying to avoid for as long as she could.

"If you don't want to go, just say so. I'll understand," the girl soon added, shrinking her shoulders and lowering her gaze. And coming dangerously close to pout.

Man, was this girl cute or what?

"You'll be there, right?" she asked, smiling when blue eyes blinked up at her.

"Yes, of course."

"And you'll be playing," she added, in a half questioning tone.

"Of course," Michiru answered, tilting her head to a side and arching a mocking eyebrow her way. "That's the whole point."

"Then, yeah, I'll be there," she finally answered. "I'd love to hear you playing again," she added, winking, as her sided smile came back to her lips.

The smile that came to the girl's lips was positively brilliant. A bit shy, judging by that faded tint of pink that came to Michiru's cheeks, but brilliant and beautiful nonetheless.

"Great!" the girl exclaimed. "Thank you."

"No problem," Haruka said, shaking a shoulder. "What kind of friend would I be if I leave you alone to face the vultures, huh?" she teased, chuckling.

Michiru giggled. "Right," she said, nodding her head. "Maybe you can switch the gown for a tux and be my date for the night," she joked.

One blonde eyebrow went up at that, in thought. "I see what I can do about that," she hummed; an idea already taking form in her mind.

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> sorry for the (sort of) shorty! More to come soon (soon enough, I hope!) Meanwhile, any thoughts?

Answering a few reviews:

**CloudAuditoreFair-SinisterJ:** please, go ahead! That should be an interesting story! Though I do not take credit for the word. It was all my dear friend's idea. So blame, I mean thank! her :) And, hey! I smile like an idiot myself while coming up with some of the dialogues! So I totally get it! Also, glad to know you're liking my more feminine Haruka, here. Transformation into the real Haruka (Manga, not Anime. Keep that in mind so you don't throw anything at me…) will start soon enough

**Pawnee15: **any good ones to recommend? I'm always looking for good Haruka-Michiru stories. I find good stories quite inspiring! And yes, I do try to keep them in character as much as I can. There are certain patterns writers usually fall for when writing about these two that I just don't buy, so I try to avoid them. Not saying I'm any better, and I'm probably creating my own patterns as well, but I write what I think feels more natural to the original characters.

**KireiHaruka-FF: **don't ever become an undercover agent; you'll suck at it. LOL! Kidding! You know I love you! And, don't worry, you're going to absolutely love what I have in mind for dear old, innocent little violinist… which should be coming in about 3 chaps, 4 tops. So you just hold your panties until then!

**Neptune's Lover: **I feel like I haven't seen you around in ages. Or maybe it's me not updating often enough? Anyway! Yes, they like each other very much (obviously), and they're slowly getting to that point of realization… but finally admitting something to oneself does not necessary mean admitting it to one's object of affection. Where's the fun (story wise) in that?

**Comdas: **that's exactly right. She is confident, but a certain violinist just caught her by surprise! Thank you for your kind review.

**TheFalcon: **it's official, I love you. Seriously, I do. So thank _you_ for completely understanding where I'm going and what I'm trying to accomplish with this story! And yes, I've heard about the series continuing, though currently all my excitement is focused on my favorite band since I was 14 coming here for the very first time _ever_ in October. I can't be excited about two different things at the same time; it's bad for my mental health (?). Excitement overload can be a very dangerous thing to my focus and concentration on work and/or when working on projects for class. Or maybe I just have a procrastinating issue accentuated by a daydreaming tendency…

**Articus: **thank your friend for me. And thank you for your words! Hope this chapter was up to the 'great' tag as well and didn't disappoint.

To everyone else who left a review, thanks a lot! Very much appreciated!


	16. Chapter 16

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>16<strong>

She stood behind the curtains, holding her instrument, patiently waiting for her cue to finally walk into the stage.

Her hair was held up in a bun, leaving soft curls to cascade down her neck and back, framing her face perfectly. Just the right amount of makeup decorated her cheeks, eyes and lips; dark eyeshadow and mascara, a bit of blush, and a pale, natural color on her lips. Her dress, a one of a kind from a prominent, raising new designer, was simple and elegant; the halter top a-line left a generous, yet nowhere near scandalous cleavage. A green cascade of green taffeta followed the princess waist, falling freely down her body and leaving a small trail behind her as she walked. Silver, simple peep toe four inches Manolo Blahnik on her feet completed her outfit for the night.

She looked beautiful and elegant. The dress was simple enough to allow her movement freely without feeling suffocated or too exposed. But as Takahashi sent her yet another one of his charming smiles, she wondered if maybe she should have picked a cowl neck…

She took a deep breath, tossing that entire line of thoughts to a side. It was completely unimportant right now, and she couldn't be bothered with Takahashi or any other charming man, be it on the Orchestra or in the audience. All she had to do was focus on her music, on her instrument, and play the same way she always did.

Surprisingly enough, she was a bit edgy. Not because of her performance per say, or the piece she had to play. She knew it by heart; she knew she would be able to play Sibelius Violin Concerto with her eyes closed, just like she always did, letting the music take her away. And she was confident enough to know every member of the Orchestra would be able to follow and accompany her.

Oh no, she wasn't nervous because it was only a matter of seconds now before she would walk into the stage, right in the middle of the spotlight, to play. She was not in the least nervous about performing in front the complete strangers that were now filling the seats that had been so thoughtfully put out on the Shinjuku Park. They didn't bother her in the least; she knew the minute she would step out there and cradle her violin under her chin, the entire world, along with the sea of strangers, would disappear and dissolve into nothingness.

What had her nervous was the fact that, for the first time ever, there was one person out there in the audience who not only she cared for, but whose opinion mattered. And though the blonde had already praised her playing once, that day at the park, still, Michiru found she was nervous.

What would Haruka think? Would she like her interpretation of Sibelius' piece? She knew the blonde had a musical education herself, which only added to Michiru's nervousness.

Introductions were made and she heard her name on the speakers, just as one of the stage boys signaled her to step out. Taking a deep breath, she made her way out there. She bowed to the audience and nodded her head, letting her blue eyes wander around the sea of faces. Her heart sinking as she jumped from face to face, not finding her.

The place was crowded. The seats that had been laid out were all occupied, and passer-bys and people that either were unable to get a ticket, or couldn't afford one were standing behind the made-up stalls, past the red robe that separated them from the socialites. And she smiled politely to them all, glad to know that, even if some of the people standing behind that robe were there purely out of curiosity and would leave in a matter of minutes or maybe an hour, they were still there, wanting to enjoy the Orchestra.

Still not finding that one face out there, and knowing it was time for her to start, she placed her violin under her chin, waiting for the Conductor's signal.

The moment her fingers started moving along the strings, her vow caressing them and creating music, everything around her faded away. Closing her eyes, she let the music take her, pouring her soul into her playing.

Suddenly, images of destruction, of war, of darkness invaded her mind. Not once stopping her playing, the images, the very same ones that plagued her dreams at night seemed to somehow feed her music. She saw that white castle again, and the silhouette of the pure, loving Queen welcoming her with opened arms. She saw the earth, shining brightly on the night sky, and a million stars decorating the vast, never ending space. She felt a gloved hand gently touching her arm; long slender fingers lingering on her skin. A flash of gold and blue passing through her mind's eyes as that mysterious woman made herself present again.

With her fingers never stopping their movement over her instrument, her vow firm as she hit all the notes perfectly, Michiru could have swore she felt this woman's warmth, right next to her. She thought she heard a voice, distant and low, muffled by her music, the orchestra, and the wind dancing gently all around her.

Unlike the last time, the woman's lingering presence was not invading. It almost felt as if she was there for her, to hear her play, giving her support and her admiration and appreciation for such a marvelous piece of music. And Michiru had to admit that, as bothering, confusing, and just concerning everything around this woman was, knowing she was there for her, not because there was a long forgotten secret affair between them nor because darkness was approaching and they had to stop it somehow, but because of her, to hear her play, it made her feel good.

And then another thought crossed her mind, remembering there was someone else among the audience who was there for her tonight.

Haruka promised to be there tonight. And though Michiru hadn't seen her, she knew, she just knew, her blonde friend was somewhere out there, listening.

Her heart jumped in content at the thought, and a small smile made it to her lips. Focusing on her music, she played for her friend.

.-.

Reacomodating her tie, she read the pamphlet that had been given to her when she arrived. Ignoring the detailed list of what pieces would be played tonight, willing to be surprised on that matter, she read through the names listed there until her green eyes landed on a very specific one. A soft, sided, approving smile made it to her lips then, just as they announced Michiru's name and the piece she will be performing on the speakers.

Two blonde eyebrows went up, impressed, and she reacomodated herself on her seat.

And then there she was. With her green dress flowing gently around her legs as she moved, instrument in hand and ready, and the softest of smiles on her lips, Michiru walked to the middle of the stage.

And as the blonde watched, it occurred to her then, most people in the same position as Michiru, being such a young, talented violinist, would walk into the stage with their head held high. A bit arrogant even, proud to stand there alone after so much work and effort. She had seen her good share of those kinds of people, and though she didn't think being confident in one's talents and abilities was a bad thing, it was the arrogant stand and posture, the oh so superior way they carried themselves what she didn't particularly like.

That kind of people both annoyed and bored the blonde.

But not Michiru. She was nothing like that.

She didn't walk in as if she owned the world. Her posture and stance didn't inspire superiority and arrogance, but humility and gentleness. Though the makeup the girl was surely wearing was responsible for the blush decorating her cheeks, it was that soft, genuine smile dancing on her lips what made all the difference as the aquamarine haired girl looked at her audience and then vowed. And it was that simple gesture, nothing short of humble, that showed the blonde the girl was thankful to her audience, for them being there.

And then the girl started playing, and Haruka didn't know what hit her.

It was nothing like the piece the girl had been playing that day, back at the park. And yet, it was exactly like it. It wasn't raw, but it was just as waving and captivating, engulfing the audience as the girl standing in the middle of the stage moved her vow and fingers through her instrument.

It drowned her.

Like ocean waves, the notes came one after the other, each one being the perfect continuation of the last one in never ending movement. And the blonde felt as if the waves were taking her in, far away from the shore the real world represented, taking her into another time and space, into the world and images Michiru's playing evoked in her instead.

It was soft and lingering, almost longing. It felt like a sad, forced goodbye to a loved one, to a lover. It was filled with emotion and passion, yet slow and saddening, as if knowing fate was nearing in.

And then it was somber in its lingering melody, and the blonde saw herself in a field. It was night, and she was wearing a cobalt blue plaid miniskirt. A white leotard of some hardened material covered her upper body, with a yellow bow attached to her chest. Her hands were gloved, and the blue leather boots on her feet stood their ground as she waited for something. And just like the music flooding her ears, her senses, she waited, longing for something -no, for someone-, while readying herself for what was to come.

As the tempo increased, flashes of never ending skies dotted with thousands of stars, of magnificent, beautiful oceans kissing the sand filled her mind's eyes as her green ones never abandoned the aquamarine figure on stage. And as the music slowed down again, still somber and longing, the wind flew across the park, caressing her cheeks and, strangely enough, bringing the scent of the ocean with it.

And just like the music that filled her ears and the flashing images that came to her mind, her heart was suddenly filled with longing. The orchestra accompanied Michiru's playing, and the blonde suddenly felt the strangest need. She found herself longing for things she had never experienced; soft lips upon her own, and gentle hands lovingly welcoming her in as a warm chest offered refugee from the world.

The intensity brought battles with it. It was in the air and all around her; the need to stand up and face whatever it was to come, as destiny caught up with her.

She blinked, surprised of the direction her mind had taken, inspired by the music. And then she blinked again, focusing once more on the girl standing on stage. Her concentrated half frown and the way she ever so softly moved to the rhythm of her fingers across her instrument; the blonde took in her every detail, wondering what was going on through Michiru's mind.

Such a longing tune, with so much sentiment to it. Who was she playing for?

.-.

A part of her wanted to reject her. She wanted her to go away, hating the way the woman seemed to always forced herself upon her thoughts. And yet another part wanted her to stay, knowing she needed her.

She knew she wouldn't be able to face whatever was to come alone, and she needed this mysterious woman. They were meant to be a part of something, something bigger than themselves, and face this darkness that was slowly approaching. They were meant to stand up and fight, to save the world. And Michiru wanted this woman, whoever she was, to be there beside her. She just hoped things wouldn't be this complicated; she wanted a partner, a friend, not a lover from some distant past life.

She let her vow caressed the strings, and she forced those thoughts away. If this woman, with her ever lingering presence wanted to be there, to hear her play, then so be it. With her eyes still closed, she allowed the music to fly through her instrument, letting every confusing thought, every frustration, every burden, every hidden emotion sip through her music.

She was supposed to be the perfect, always the poised young woman, and she played the part.

She was supposed to be the good student, never disregarding her obligations and getting perfect grades. And she did.

She was supposed to be a good daughter, honoring her family name. And she did.

She was supposed to stand up and fight, saving the world from the Silence. And she will do it.

She was supposed to find this mysterious, elusive woman, and fight alongside with her. And again, she will do it.

But she refused to be told who to love. She was willing to commit herself to whatever destiny had in mind for her, but she was just not going to compromise herself, her heart, because that was what was expected from her. She was unwilling to chain herself, her will, her every thought and act, her soul, to someone she didn't love; be it one of the many young men that wanted to charm her, or this mysterious woman she didn't even know at all.

Her heart was hers, and only hers, to give away. Letting people in was her choice, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything tell her otherwise.

Pouring her very soul into her playing, she let it all wash over her. Her heart cried, her soul cried, wanting to break free from the invisible chains that kept her bound to a world she didn't want to be in. There was nothing for her in it; no love, no tenderness, no understanding, no freedom; only rules to follow and roles to be played. Hard shells for faces with never transparent eyes, always judging, uncaring, and complimenting words that held little to no meaning.

But in the middle of the rules, the must be's, in between all that meaninglessness and the emptiness, she had found someone who eased her loneliness. With no subtlety, with no sugar coated words, without asking for permission first, and probably without even knowing she was doing it, her blonde friend had crashed into the violinist' life, changing it.

Changing _her_.

And Michiru was so thankful for that, for ever walking into that isle on the library and finding her there. She had found a true, honest friend in the most curious of places, completely unexpected, and upon getting to know the tall girl better, she was thankful for that. Because, that day, she found so much more than just pleasant company to spend her free time with. She found someone she could talk to and relay on -even if she knew there were certain things she couldn't tell to the blonde-; someone she could trust, knowing she would never be judged and looked down on. With an opened mind and a view over things and life that went so beyond the small crystal box the both of them were supposed to live in, Michiru found someone she could count on. Because she knew she could always count on the blonde to make her smile when she was having a bit of a foul mood, and to take her off her own mind and worries with one of her sided smiles and her witty comments about any random subject.

Unknowingly, the blonde had inspired her in so many ways. She had made Michiru want to be a better person, a better artist, a better violinist. Not because Haruka was pushing, but because she had faith in her. And it was that faith that drove Michiru, allowing herself to be who she wanted to be, and not what others expected of her.

With the solo concert coming to an end, she pushed her fears to a side. With nothing but soft, mischievous green eyes and that amused, cocky sided smile she had grown so used to in her mind, Michiru played with all her heart, thanking her friend for being her, and trying to give back the only way she knew how; through her music.

.-.

The aquamarine curls caught the light in them, and the dress falling down her legs and to the floor added a certain aura to the silhouette of the girl playing the violin. She looked surreal, ethereal.

And breathtaking.

Completely taken by Michiru's spell, by her music, her intensity, her waving movements, barely able to remember how to breathe at all, the blonde just sat there, watching. The way the girl's playing answered to the orchestra behind her, playing her violin with raw passion and impeccable talent, the way she moved as she played; the half frown that revealed concentration and passion and perfect knowledge of what she was doing. Everything about it was simply captivating, and Haruka observed it all.

And when Michiru finally draw it all to an end, wonderfully, everyone in the audience went mad. Clapping their hands in standing ovation and making soft cheeks turn red as the girl finally let her instrument to a rest.

And when blue eyes opened up again and looked straight at her, as if knowing exactly which seat she was occupying, time stopped. Her heart stopped dead in her chest and a thousand little butterflies suddenly came take residence in her stomach as Michiru looked directly at her, and the softest, most beautiful of smiles came to her lips.

She was barely able to smile back, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her now ragging heart as all her mentally whispered questions she had been wondering about lately, the half answers and the wild guesses finally made sense. Finally, with those deep blue eyes staring into her own green ones, she had the answers.

She hadn't been able to see it before, but now it was as clear as water. And it was so obvious, she felt like hitting her own forehead.

She had the biggest crush on her friend.

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>I'm gonna have to disappoint you all and finish this one here. I promise I'll make it up to you on the next chap! I'm terribly busy right now with class, so I can't really say when I'll be able to give you guys an update. So I apologize in advance for the delay!

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**Pawnee15:** Yes, I've read FwB, and loved it till the very end!  
>And yes, I do agree with you; Michiru is the one wearing the pants on that relationship! I hope you don't hate me too much for cutting this one so short, but trust me, the rest would be a night for our lovely couple to remember, and it needs to be a whole chap, so… there! Don't kill me!<p>

**KireiHaruka-FF:** our Michirusexual thing? You mean _your _thing! I'm not taking credit for it! And I'll be giving Michiru more than just a heart attack… Not on next chap per say, but you know, later on… *whistles innocently*

**Fanthom: **I've been accused of loving my cliffhangers before, and I can't promise there won't be any more of those coming along… Don't know when I'll be able to post the next one, but I _promise_, the wait will be totally worth it! And yes, it will be a date. Ok, more like a "faking a date" date, but still! Though I'm warning you; if you're expecting expensive dinner at candle light, you'll be _very_ disappointed!

**Antares: **dates that are not really dates but end up being dates, is what triggered this whole story! So yeah, that's what they're doing. Without even realizing it.

**Articus:** I know I owe you guys a big chap with lots of romance in it, but there's so much to put into this story, I don't want to rush everything into one single chap. Don't forget that, as they're getting to know each other and having their "not dates" at the library, they're also trying to figure out what destiny has in store for them and all that. Which is a very big fat part of this story. And of course Michiru wants to spend time with Haruka! (who wouldn't?). Date coming up, so stay tuned!

**TheFalcon:** you made perfect sense, and once again, that's exactly what I was aiming for. Each chap is hard work because I try to pick the right word and phrasing to let readers see what I see in my mind, trying to show exactly how they feel and why they feel that way in the first place. And feelings and emotions can be so hard to describe… Again, thank you for your words and your review!

**Neptune'sLover:** that's why I said maybe it's because I haven't been updating lately. I know you're there, patiently waiting for an update on "Of light and blood" :)  
>Michiru is not exactly picking up her courage; she doesn't even realize what she's doing. Which is, driving our adorable blonde crazily in luuuuv!<p>

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Ok, getting lengthy here! To all the rest who left a review, thanks a lot! Sorry for yet another shorty, and sorry to say… *checks left and right and whispers* you're all so wrong on half your guessings!


	17. Chapter 17

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>17<strong>

The moment she let her vow rest and opened her eyes, it was as if some sort of invisible force directed her gaze. And there she was, sitting among the audience.

She couldn't really see her eyes clearly because of the distance, but that soft smile dancing in her lips and that in-trance like look upon her face was enough for her to know; Haruka had liked her performance. And that knowledge was enough to make her smile in return; her heart filling with an almost unbearable sense of fulfillment and joy, just by looking at her.

Bowing to her audience one last time, barely registering anyone but her friend, she finally made her way off the stage, going quickly to the back. The set up was made so that there were curtains hanging from the metal structure, giving a sense of privacy to the large space, couches, low tables and mirrors spread around for musicians to get ready. It wasn't exactly private; the Opera house had much more private, individual rooms for such purpose. But it was good enough, and she had gotten ready even before her father's chauffer drove her here, anyway; all she had needed was a place to leave her case while she was out playing.

Securing her violin back in its case, she heard the distant sound of the people gathered tonight moving around, as her performance had been the last one of the night. Photographs were being taken, congratulations being given, and now that it was over, it was time to socialize.

Michiru wasn't exactly looking forward to that.

Getting her case, she made her way out again, walking around the stage and into the people now all around. She found her chauffer standing to a side, patiently waiting for her to drive her back to her father's house; it was far too late to go back to campus, and Mother Superior was already aware of the concert, knowing she wouldn't be coming back tonight, spending the night with her family instead. Of course, Mother Superior had probably thought her father would be there to see her play, taking her home with him afterwards. Nothing further from the truth, but Michiru saw no need to correct the misunderstanding. What did it matter that her father wasn't there, and that he probably wouldn't even notice her by the time she would finally make it to the Kaioh Manor? It was nothing out of the ordinary for the violinist, and she found no need to divulge her family's internal fractures, cracks, and empty holes.

A bouquet of roses was handed to her, and people approached her, smiling and gifting words of admiration and approval, praising her in all ways possible. And she smiled through it all, even if their approval was something she never looked for and the praising didn't exactly feel real. Not when they would mix her talent as a musician with her beauty, as if it was admirable for her to possess both, yet as if one thing led to the other naturally. Yet, she smiled, holding her mask neatly in place and politely smiling and nodding her gratitude before excusing herself.

She was just about to go searching for a certain tall blonde, when someone calling out her name prevented her from doing so. She turned around, only to come face to face with Iwasa, wrapped around a beautiful, completely black, last season Channel dress that marked the girl's every curve and was, in Michiru's opinion, a little bit too much to be wearing when attending to a concert.

The girl stood tall and proud, smiling sweetly to her, though Michiru was able to see the not so sweetly but rather mocking light in the girl's black eyes as she stood there, next to a couple in their mid forties the violinist knew were the girl's parents.

"I wanted to introduce you to my parents," the girl said, "Souta and Sachiko Iwasa," she introduced, pointing at her father and mother respectively. "Dad, mom, this is Michiru Kaioh."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Kaioh," Souta Iwasa said, bowing to her. "You are the most wonderful violinist I have ever met," he then added, smiling politely and -surprisingly enough- genuinely.

"Thank you, Mr. Iwasa," she said, bowing her head in respect.

"I understand you and my daughter attend to the same classes," Sachiko Iwasa said, smiling.

"Yes," Iwasa was fast to say, smiling widely, though Michiru was able to see the slightly, warningly arching eyebrow the girl sent her way. "We're the best of friends, aren't we, Michiru?" she finished, passing an arm around the violinist's shoulders.

Every single fiber in her being rejected both the familiar way in which Iwasa addressed her and the close contact, feeling uncomfortable and repulsed by the girl's arm hanging around her shoulders. It was such a fake gesture, Michiru wanted to puke. But she managed to hold it all in, having had years of practice, and she smiled instead, nodding her agreement to such fake statement and holding her case tighter.

"I'm sure you girls want some time to chat," Mrs. Iwasa said, smiling as she passed a hand around her husband's arm, "so we'll leave you to that. Just don't take too long, alright, sweetie?" she finished, looking at her daughter.

"Of course not," Iwasa said, nodding and returning the smile. A smile that disappeared the moment her parents were finally out of sight, as the girl turned to look at her again, eying her up and down. "Well, that was… long," she said, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

"Yes," Michiru said, not finding the need to either defend or come up with a real answer to the comment.

In all honesty, she was trying to come up with a way to get away from the Queen Bee without being too blunt about it. Though she was sure, Iwasa would much rather prefer anyone else's company than hers.

Not that she minded. The feeling was mutual.

And as she looked up and around, trying to find a getaway from her current situation she found one. And the tall, slender figure her blue eyes landed on represented not only the getaway she was seeking for, but also a very pleasant, welcomed company.

Her heart jumped and a small smile made it to her lips as she took the approaching figure in.

Wearing an impeccable, Armani chalkstripe suit, the wide pants made her look even taller while hugging her hips just the right way. Matching jacket, and a perfectly white silk shirt under it; a black tie and a vest that could be guessed added the final touch to her outfit, with black, simple three inches heeled stiletto shoes on her feet. And as she looked at her, Michiru knew, if it weren't for the shoes, the sided low ponytail that left a few blonde strands falling around her face in a clearly feminine, elegant way, and the slight hint of makeup, just a bit of dark eyeshadow and mascara to accentuate green eyes as blonde bangs kept on falling over them, the tall girl could easily be mistaken for a man.

A young, handsome, charming young man with an impeccable taste in clothes who was now giving her that sided -and yes, charming- smile she knew all too well by now. It was hard not to smile back.

Of course, like this, no one would mistake the blonde for a man. But with a different hairdo and definitively no makeup, Michiru knew anyone would make such mistake, completely missing out on the little hints here and there that clearly stated she was a woman. Her nose, small and pointy, the faded freckles dotting her cheeks, the shape of her eyes and her long eyelashes; her face was too feminine, and so was her anatomy. Though, again, that could be solved and dealt with if wanted…

She shook her head, vaguely wondering why her thoughts had taken that particular path, but deciding it was completely irrelevant. What mattered now was that her friend was here.

"Miss Kaioh," the blonde said all too formal, taking her hand and kissing it gently, acting like the perfect gentleman. "Pleasure to see you, as always."

For a second, she toyed with the idea of rolling her eyes and scold the blonde for acting like any other charming young man wanting to sweep her off her feet. But she tossed the idea to a side, deciding to play her part instead; Haruka was by far much more of a pleasant company than any of her suitors, and actually charming in her own right.

And, the suit and tie did add a certain something to the effect.

She giggled, smiling softly. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Tenoh," she said, bowing her head.

She felt more than saw Iwasa straightening up at the mention of the blonde's family name, and Michiru remembered the girl was still standing there, having forgotten all about her the moment the blonde arrived to her side. Why was she still here, anyway?

"I don't believe we've been introduced," Iwasa said, extending her hand out for the blonde to take. "Masuyo Iwasa, pleasure to meet you, Miss Tenoh."

Right. That was why...

One half questioning, half surprised eyebrow went up, surreptitiously, as Haruka took the offered hand, shaking it. "Hi," was all the blonde said, not offering her full name and nowhere near close showing an ounce of that charming attitude she had displayed just seconds ago.

The girl blinked when the blonde was fast to let go of her hand. But she seemed to shake herself off fast enough, plastering on her brilliant smile instead as she looked at the tall girl. "A bunch of us are going out later," she said. "It's a bit of an exclusive night club, but I'm sure I can get you in…"

"Oh, I'd love to," Haruka interrupted, in such a tone that would have fooled the violinist if it weren't for the fact that she knew that lingering irony, that mockery clinging to the blonde's every word, "but I promised Michiru I'd take her out to dinner to celebrate her big night," she stated, with such confidence that made the smaller girl blink up in surprise as the blonde took her case from her to then offer an arm to the violinist as green eyes looked down on her. "Right, Michi?"

For whatever reasons, the given nickname made her heart jump up inside her chest. And as she registered how endearing it sounded, she tried the best she could to fight off the blush that wanted to come to her cheeks, smiling up to soft emeralds and accepting the offered arm instead.

"Yes, of course," she said, nodding her head. "So where are you taking me?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I tell you," Haruka pointed out.

"Well, you can still come by later," Iwasa said, forcing a smile up as she looked at the violinist. "You can come too, of course," she added. And Michiru had to wonder just how much had it actually hurt the girl to say those words out loud…

.-.

She didn't like this girl.

For one, she didn't like the way she had seemed to be cornering the violinist by the time she approached them. The look on those blue eyes, as if silently looking for something or someone that would save her from an unwanted company, had compelled the tall blonde to approach her instead of waiting around, like she would have done if she thought they were friends, or even an acquaintance the violinist was having a pleasant conversation with.

But that was clearly not the case. If the way Michiru had been standing next to the girl, looking everything but comfortable wasn't enough, the way this Iwasa girl had just extended the invitation to the violinist -as if her presence was not desired nor required, but the girl would put up with her if she had to- sure was. And besides the fact that she had other plans for the night that didn't include being surrounded by pompous brats holding cocktails, Haruka didn't appreciate the way this girl just talked to Michiru.

And then, of course, it didn't help the fact that Iwasa's interest in her had only peaked at the mention of her family name. If anything, this girl represented everything Haruka hated about high society…

"Maybe some other time," she said. "Anyway, we should get going. Nice meeting you, Miss…"

"Iwasa," the girl offered. "But please, you can call me Masuyo."

"Of course," Haruka said, nodding her head and masterly avoiding calling her by any name at all. "Have a good evening."

.-.

Michiru felt like jumping up and hugging the blonde as she guided them away from the Queen Bee. Not only for saving her from the girl's undesired and forced upon company, but also for giving Iwasa a taste of her own medicine, looking down on her and masterly and subtlety stating her company was neither wanted nor welcomed, with her every word dripping subtle mockery.

She knew she should probably be ashamed of herself for ever thinking that, but someone not bending to the girl's every word and command was something she didn't get to witness often on school campus. Everyone but her did, which was one of the many reasons why she was a bit of an outcast; she did not mingle, she didn't quite fit into her peers' molds, and she certainly didn't follow Iwasa's -or anyone else's- command. Yet here she was, with her tall friend doing exactly that, and she shamelessly enjoyed every second of it; she was not alone in her little corner of the world of the rich and outcasted.

But they were still at the park, with more important and prominent people around than Michiru cared about, and she still had to play her part. Jumping up and hugging the tall girl was not exactly lady like, so she settled for tightening her grip around the blonde's arm, fully encircling her own arm around it and standing closer to the tall girl.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up. "For saving me from her," she provided, when green eyes just blinked at her.

The blonde chuckled. "You looked like you needed the saving," she said, shaking her shoulder. "And I can see why. That girl sure is obnoxious."

"She's not exactly my favorite person," Michiru agreed.

Again, Haruka chuckled. "I don't blame you."

"So, where are you taking me?" she asked, forgetting all about the previous incident, but clearly remembering the blonde's words just then. But when green eyes looked at her for a moment before looking past her, she frowned. "I mean, that is," she started to say, suddenly nervous, and a bit disappointed too, "if you really meant…"

"I did," Haruka was fast to say, looking into her blue eyes again and smiling widely. "I have big plans."

Two aquamarine eyebrows went up at that, curiously. "Oh?"

"Ok, not _big_," the blonde corrected herself. "Just plans. I have plans," she said, stuttering a little. "You know… uh… dinner and… you know…"

She smiled up at the suddenly nervous looking girl. "You either do have really big plans, or you're just trying to come up with something because I just corned you," she accused, playfully.

Green eyes blinked at that, and a frown came to the girl's soft features. "I do have plans," she defended herself. "But… you know, I can wait while you go and… you know, mingle."

She narrowed her eyes at that. "Now you're just trying to get rid of me."

"Wha-no! I…" the blonde stuttered, before shaking her head and taking a breath. "There's a man staring at you at two o'clock," she finally put out.

"Mine or yours?" Michiru asked, completely uninterested, but still enjoying the blonde's weird behavior all the same. Enjoying her teasing, she soon added, "Is he handsome?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "Young, rich, and with a little too much hair gel," she described, as her trademark sided grin came to her lips. "You know the type."

Though the description didn't really give much for her to try and associate it with a name, for many young men she knew fit that exact description, she knew what the blonde meant. And she also knew, the man's identity didn't really matter; he was just another name on a list that was way too long for the violinist's liking.

"I can wait in my car while you…"

"Is he wearing white tights, a hat with a big feather on the side, and riding a white horse?" she asked, interrupting the blonde. Haruka just blinked at her, and she giggled, shrinking her shoulders. "That would be too much of an interesting, kind of embarrassing for him, very cliché sight to miss it, don't you think?"

Haruka blinked again, once, before laughing. "I think I'm rubbing off on you," she said, after calming herself down a little.

She hummed a little, considering the idea. "Maybe," she conceded. "But if he's just another 'rich and handsome' man, then he can wait," she stated, placing her hand around the blonde's arm again. "I'm with a much more interesting and far more welcomed company right now," she stated, firmly.

The smile that came to the blonde's face then was positively blinding. Big and bright, yet soft, and so beautiful. It made Michiru's stomach flipped in content, as that blush the blonde seemed to be, for whatever reason, so easily able to bring out to her face burned her cheeks once more.

But she ignored it, shaking her head. "So, tell me, what are those big plans of yours, Miss Charming Man?" she asked as they started walking.

One blonde eyebrow went up at that and she chuckled. "Man?"

"Well, you're playing the part, aren't you?" she teased, eyeing the blonde up and down.

Again, Haruka chuckled. "Guess I am," she said, rearranging her tie. But then she frowned, and something flashed in front of green eyes as the blonde looked down and into her own blue eyes. "Disappointed I'm not actually a man?"

The question surprised her. But what surprised her more was what she saw in those green eyes; a sudden lack of security, subtle, minuscule, and very well hidden, but still there. It was as if the blonde was suddenly feeling unsure, or at least guilty for taking all her attention and time, keeping her away from what Michiru was supposed to be doing.

But she didn't lie when she said any 'rich and handsome' suitor could wait. She knew better than to doubt there would be plenty of opportunities for them to approach her. And right now, she was not only enjoying the company, but also quite curious to find out what her tall friend had planned for their so called date.

"Never," she assured her, smiling up into green emeralds, she leaned in closer to her friend, slightly tilting her head towards the blonde's shoulder.

And that was all the blonde needed for whatever worry that was occupying her mind to dissipate. Her smile reappeared in her lips, small, soft and honest, and the light came back to her eyes, strong, self secure.

Still not knowing what had triggered that sudden and already gone change in her friend, Michiru found she was just happy it was over. She much rather see that light in her eyes. It made them seem darker, yet soft at the same time. The little dots decorating her irises would get darker, contrasting with the ever changing green, and pupils would get big and round, with that same latent fire, that strength that the blonde inspired with her every move, pouring out and spreading.

Reaching her.

That's how it felt like to look into Haruka's eyes. As if there was something inside her, something deep within those soft emeralds that reached out to her, spreading the blonde's strength and essence. Cocooning her. And though Michiru didn't like to think of herself as a damsel in distress, needing someone to protect her and look for her, with Haruka, it didn't feel intruding at all. As if that was just who the blonde was; a natural protector.

She really didn't know how else to describe it. In any case, it probably meant her friend was just as happy to spend her free time with her as Michiru was. And it felt nice. It felt right, and that was all that mattered.

"Ready to go, Miss Michiru?"

Her father's chauffer voice surprised her, and she looked up only to find the man standing next to her, with that small, gentle smile of his she was already so used to decorating his aging features. He eyed the blonde standing next to Michiru curiously, but seemed to have decided she was a friend. Otherwise, Michiru knew, he would have kept himself to a side, knowing better than to interrupt.

"We're going out for dinner," she answered him. "You can go home and rest, Ayumu," she informed, already being familiar enough with the man to call him by his first name.

"As you wish," he said, vowing his head in respect. But then that fatherly like look Michiru had seen in him only a handful of times came to his features as he looked at the tall girl.

And the blonde seemed to notice, for she smiled reassuringly to him. "I promise to take her back at a decent, reasonable hour."

"Would you mind taking these home for me?" she asked, signaling for the bouquet in her hands and her violin case in Haruka's.

"Of course," he agreed, taking the items himself. "Take care of Miss Michiru," he then said, looking straight at the blonde.

"I will."

A subtle, yet satisfied smile came to Ayumu's lips then, as he vowed his head in respect. "Have a good evening."

"Thank you," Michiru said, nodding her head. "You too."

As Ayumu walked away, and now with both her hands free, she took the tall girl's arm again, placing both her hands around and all but hanging herself from it. And as amused eyes looked down on her, she put on her best innocent, eyelashes battling look.

"So, where are you taking me tonight, Miss Charming Man?"

The blonde chuckled, lightly taping her hands. "You'll see."

.

.

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><p><strong>A.N.: <strong>So so sorry for the huge delay on this chap! I have a deadline in 2 days, and this 23 pieces project's been killing me (and my wallet). But at last! I've managed to find a little time to finish this chap. Sorry to disappoint you all, but I've decided I need one more chap before getting on with the 'not a date' date. Which should be coming at some point next week, if everything (mainly, my schedule) goes according to plan. I just need to be able to pass out and have an 'as long as I want it to' date with my pillow for one day (which will be next Saturday).

Now, don't you go and accuse me of leaving you guys with a cliffhanger. I love my cliffhangers! *hangs on to cliffhangers for dear life*

.

**Comdas:** I need time. Lots of it. Uh! And a new back! Do you know where I can get one of those? 'Cause mine needs a time off… . Hope you don't mind too much about me going back on my own words…

**TheFalcon:** my first stories were short, with short sentences and not that much description at all. I know I'm not great, and I know my English skills need some work, but I worked hard on every story and I always try to improve. And I'm pleased to know you enjoy my work. And yes, my whole point is for readers to be able to create a picture of what I'm writing in their minds.  
>You are absolutely right in all your thoughts and guessing so far! There will be some lemon later on, but for now, it's all about subtle romance, a bit of shyness here and there, and butterflies in their stomachs.<p>

**Poseidon'Wrath:** of course she was playing for Haruka. Our lovely blonde is the only one in the audience Michiru cares for. More than she knows and is aware of, but still. And good guess on where she stands regarding love and feelings! And on Haruka, too!  
>Now, I know I promised a long chap plus date, but it felt wrong to mix it up all in one chap, so the date will come in the next chap. Hopefully, it would be a long enough chap filled with romance for you to forgive me for the change of plans!<p>

**KireiHaruka-FF:** of course it would be too much of a "Michi says I do" thing. And it kinda makes no sense at this point of the story. So she's still herself (though not quite, considering she's still not her real self…. Ok, that sounded confusing…)

To everyone else who left a review, thank you so much! Very much appreciated! I would love to answer you all, but in all honesty, I really need to get ready or else I'll be majorly late for work… (being a grownup sucks!). I haven't even proof-read this one… I just felt terrible for not updating for so long… so sorry for any mistake! Promise I'll go through this one later on and fix it!


	18. Chapter 18

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>18<strong>

She parked the car, killing the engine but not bothering on turning off the lights. Which surely let her co-driver know this was not their final destination, and it only served to increase the aquamarine haired girl's curiosity.

Unfastening her seatbelt and not providing any kind of answer to the unvoiced question dancing in blue orbs, she got off the car, making her way fast to the street vendor standing on the corner, only a few feet away from where she parked her car.

Smiling to herself, she shoved her hands into her pants' pockets as she waited for the eldery man to make her order.

Michiru was being very patient, and after asking a couple of times where were they going only to get the same vague answer over and over, she had given up on trying to get anything out of the tall blonde. But her curiosity was increasing in waves with every passing minute; Haruka could see it in her eyes, in the way the ghost of an anxious, curious smile would tug at the corner of the girl's lips, and the way she would keep on looking all around from the car's windows to try to figure out where the blonde was taking her.

Chances of Michiru figuring Haruka's plans out were fat. And the blonde liked that; she was playing the mystery card tonight, and she was enjoying it. The surprise factor, the unexpected and unconventional of their 'date' only made it that much more special. Even if it wasn't a real one. Not the way Haruka would like, as she had realized not even two hours ago.

It was funny, in a curious kind of way, how she had ended up feeling like this without even realizing it. And now she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had planned everything out with these newfound feelings pressing her subconscious; latent and silent, but still there, like little threads directing her, whispering in her ear and telling her which direction to go.

Not that it was much of help. Because she really didn't know what to do now, which way to go. Somewhere in between the long talks, the pleasant silences, the teasing comments and the rides back to Sacred Heart, she didn't know when exactly, but at some point in there, she had developed feelings for her friend, and she wasn't sure of what to do now. Should she tell her? Act upon it? Show her, somehow?

She shook her head, clearing her mind. She needed a talk with her pillow, that was for sure. But for now, and as she had found out also in a matter of barely two hours, it was better if she just tried to push that little realization of hers to the back of her head and not think about it. That way, it was easier to be herself and fight off that really awkward, unfamiliar insecurity and shyness that assaulted her whenever these growing feelings would catch her unguarded and reminded her the most obvious things; how unbelievably blue Michiru's eyes were, and how beautifully they lighted up when she laughed; how soft and silky, how truly unique was her hair; how perfectly beautiful and elegant was the curve of her lips, and how tempting they looked, making her wonder what they tasted like...

Don't think about it. Be yourself. Enjoy the moment.

That was her mantra for the night, and it seemed to be working just fine for now.

The old man finished her order and she paid the requested amount, giving the man a small smile of thanks before turning on her heals, making it back to her car.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" Michiru inquired the second she got into her car.

"Nope," she answered, shaking her head for emphasis as a sided grin made it to her lips and she started the car again.

"So," the other continued, "you're not going to tell me anything," she stated, in a tone that still held quite an amount of amusement, despite the questioning, chastising ring to it.

"Nope," she said again.

"So you're taking me to some unknown and probably deserted place," she guessed, "and you're not letting me know a thing about it or how long we'd be there."

From the corner of her eyes, she was able to see Michiru arching a questioning, mockingly serious frown her way as the violinist crossed her arms over her chest. She was perfectly able to catch the teasing air on her only half serious accusing tone and words, and she chuckled, nodding her head once more.

"Basically, yes."

"You do realize this qualifies as kidnap, right?"

She laughed at that, shaking her head in amusement. "Only if you're here against your will," she pointed out.

And as the words left her mouth, an annoying little voice inside her told her that, maybe, Michiru really didn't want to be on some remote place with her. There had been many nice, promising young men at the park tonight; what if Michiru rather spend the night with one of them? What if she was here with her now only because she didn't want to be rude?

She thought she knew the girl enough to know, Michiru wouldn't go and do something she didn't want to do just to be polite. She would probably come up with a very charming, adorable way of nicely declining any invitation thrown her way. But still, what if she had changed her mind? What if…

"You're a very bewitching kidnaper," the girl's sweet voice interrupted her internal battle and she turned to see the girl shaking a shoulder. "What's a girl supposed to do?"

.-.

Green eyes blinked at her, a clear hint of bewilderment dancing in there, and she giggled.

"Miss Charming Man," she added for good measure, playfully and seductively narrowing her eyes.

Even with the reigning shadows out on the street and the insufficient light of the car, she was able to see the blonde's cheeks going brightly red.

She was playing the part and she knew it, with her teasing words and all. And yet, she couldn't help but be surprised at those adorably red cheeks on the always and otherwise stoic, cool girl; she honestly hadn't thought that would be the end result of her teasing. But she welcomed the sight, only vaguely wondering how many more times she would be able to bring that adorable blush to the blonde's cheeks as the aforementioned girl guided the car into a more residential area.

She wasn't that familiar with the area, and she wasn't exactly a walking google map, but she did know there were no restaurants around. So where was Haruka taking her? And when the blonde finally parked the car and she saw nothing but a thick wall of bushes and trees as they created a tall, very nicely maintained fence, and then an iron gate that led the way to what Michiru guessed was probably private property, she turned to the blonde, arching a questioning eyebrow.

"We're not doing anything illegal, are we?" she asked, only half joking.

The blonde chuckled, opening the door and stepping out of the car, not once answering her question. And Michiru followed her with her eyes as the tall girl made it around the car, opening the door for her.

"Just trust me," she simply said, offering her hand out as the most charming, sided smile came to her lips.

She hesitated for only half a second.

That smile was really convincing, she thought to herself. And, of course, she did trust the blonde. It was hard not to, when those soft emeralds were shining down on her with nothing but warmth as the tall girl's hand hung in the air, waiting for her to take it.

And she did. Returning the smile, she took Haruka's hand, accepting the offered help to get out of the car.

Taking the bag with whatever she had bought from that street vendor from the back seat she had left it on, and another one she hadn't noticed before, Haruka locked the car, placing the keys on her pocket and then smiling widely.

"So," Haruka started, taking a deep breath.

"So."

"I figured I could show you what a real date should be like when you're not painfully putting up with someone you don't really like and their lousy, boring conversation."

She giggled then, curiously tilting her head to a side while arching a teasing, questioning eyebrow. "And exactly how many dates have you been on to be such an expert?"

"Tonight not counting?" she asked, smiling when Michiru shook her head in response. "Let me think…" she then trailed off, humming lightly as a thoughtful frown came to her features and she titled her head up; one long, slender finger tapping her chin. "None," she finally answered, smiling widely when Michiru just laughed at her. "But I've seen a lot of movies," she soon added in her defense. "Trust me, I'm an expert."

"Oh really?"

"At least in theory," she admitted, shrinking her shoulders. But her smile soon came back to her lips. "And that's exactly what this is, right?" she reasoned. "A theoretical demonstration of what a date should be like."

"When I'm not putting up with unpleasant company and secretly wishing it to be over," she added for her.

The blonde frowned then, scratching the back of her neck. "You're not doing that, are you?"

"Not yet," she teased, though she was sure, she would never get tired of Haruka's company.

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh of relief, the tall girl chuckled. "Then so far so good," she stated, gently placing a hand on her lower back and silently guiding her to the iron gate.

And she followed, not by a mile as calm as she was pretending to be.

She was excited, a bit nervous, and more than highly curious about what the blonde had planned for the night. And when they reached the door and she took a peek inside as Haruka fumbled with the lock -she purposely ignored the fact that said blonde was actually forcing the lock…-, she was utterly surprised to find they were standing right outside a park.

And not just any park. A playground.

She heard the locked giving way, and the blonde smiled in satisfaction just as she looked up at her; an aquamarine eyebrow going up in curious question.

"After you," Haruka said extending a hand out and bowing gracefully and gentlemanly.

She complied, entering the playground and taking a good look around.

Even with nothing but the help of the street lamps scattered around, she was perfectly able to see it. With trees all around the large sandbox, probably to offer shelter to the parents as they sat on the benches, there was a swing set, a slide, spring riders, monkey bars, trapeze rings, and a rather big, wooden jungle gym. And as she took it all in, she turned back to the blonde, frowning in silent question, yet giggling all the same, amused at the rather peculiar chosen place for their so called date.

"You'd have plenty of expensive dates," Haruka began, "with expensive wine and candle light and all that," she explained. "So I'm being a bit more original."

"A playground?" she questioned, arching an eyebrow, yet unable to fight off the smile from showing up on her lips.

"We can have some fun while at it, too," the blonde justified herself, winking at her as she made her way to the jungle gym.

And Michiru watched, curious and amused, as the tall blonde kicked her heels off, leaving them forgotten on the sand. Masterly balancing the bags in one hand, she made the way up the platform on the wooden structure, and then promptly sat down, crossed leg and smiling widely.

"You coming?" she asked, tilting her head to a side in mockery when she hesitated a little. "What? Too barbaric for the refined lady?"

She frowned at that, narrowing her blue eyes to the blonde, not appreciating the insult, even if it was just teasing.

Shoving her nose up in the air in a superior, dignified manner, she was unable to keep up the charade for longer than a few seconds before finally giving in, accepting the challenge. Lifting the skirt of her dress and supporting herself with the help of the wooden column, she took her shoes off and then proceeded to make the way up. A bit of a hard task considering her long skirted dress kept on getting in the middle, and making the way up with just one hand proved to be harder than what the blonde made it looked like.

Haruka was up and ready to help her in an instant. And she smiled in appreciation, gladly accepting the helping hand and carefully lifting the skirt of her dress with her free hand as she made the way up. She almost tripped when she finally made it, and Haruka was fast to catch her, placing both hands on her side and steadying her before she could even lose her balance. Instinctively placing her hands on the other girl's arms, she blinked once, before finally giving in, laughing at her little moment of clumsiness.

The blonde laughed along with her good heartedly, and then, placing one hand on her lower back, she made her look up at her.

"Welcome, Milady," she said, in a purposely badly faked English accent. "Welcome to my kingdom!" she said, now extending her free hand out and around.

She giggled at her antics. "Interesting," she indulged, nodding her head. "Not what I expected your kingdom to be, my good sire, but still quite interesting," she teased.

The blonde chuckled. "When I was six, this," she said, signaling to the wooden structure they were standing on and then to the park all around, "being up here, felt like being at the top of the world," she confessed, shaking her shoulder and shoving her hands on her pants' pockets in what Michiru could only read as a rather out of character moment of shyness. But she shook herself out if it soon enough. "Shall we?" she said, pointing at the bags resting at their feet and gesturing for them to sit down.

Eating takeout while sitting on the top of a jungle gym, in the middle of a playground. Well, the blonde had wanted to be original, and this surely was, Michiru thought, taking in the way the streetlights and the moon offered such a different view of the typically sunny image the word playground evoked.

And not just any playground, but Haruka's. And she smiled up to her, touched that the blonde had picked such a special, personal place for their date.

Accepting Haruka's hand once more, she accommodated herself, sitting down and folding her legs, arranging her dress so that it wouldn't tangle her. The blonde sat down right in front of her, legs crossed, and then proceeded to empty the bags; two large soda cups, and a nice though plastic box of freshly fried takoyaki.

"I would have brought wine," Haruka began to apologize as she took two straws out of the bag, placing each one on their drinks and then handing one to her, "but we're fifteen and not supposed to be drinking alcohol," she said, slightly arching both eyebrows and rolling her eyes in mockery. And Michiru giggled, knowing they both have had at least a glass of champagne before. "And I'm driving, so…"

"Very responsible of you," she granted, nodding her head. "I love how you thought of everything," she then said, smiling approvingly and gratefully when the blonde handed her a napkin and chopsticks. "Here," she said, taking her cupboard soda, straw in place, and raising it in toast. "For a date to remember."

There it was, that tint of red coming to the blonde's cheeks. Not as bright as it had been back at the car, but still there, and Michiru giggled, finding the tall girl simply adorable as she chuckled and shook her head lightly, probably just to fight off her blush.

"Cheers," Haruka finally said, taking her own cup and raising it.

Accepting the blonde's silent invitation when she reached the box out to her, she took one ball with her chopstick, taking a tentative bite out of the still hot snack.

Of course, she had had it before. Specially those occasions she would spend the entire day out, and eating at the park, under the shadow of a large tree or at the gazebo she usually went to when the weather allowed her to was always a nice option. Despite what others thought of her, she didn't mind not having the commodities of a nice restaurant, and although she did prefer shashimi, takoyaki did have seafood in it, and it was cheap and easy enough to find and to carry to her favorite spot.

Yes, she had had it before. But as she took a bite and the mixed, rich taste of the wheat batter and the octopus rolled down her tongue, she couldn't help but moan in appreciation.

"It's great, isn't it?" the blonde asked, smiling knowingly.

She nodded, swallowing her food and enjoying as it went past her throat, leaving a delicious aftertaste.

"This guy makes the best takoyaki in all of Tokyo," the blonde stated firmly, and nodding her head once before taking a bite herself.

The sauce staining her lips and then dripping to her chin as she did so. And Michiru laughed, amused at the sight the girl made, piece of roll still in her mouth and trying to chew and swallow, cleaning herself with the back of her hand, and leaving her half eaten roll and chopsticks on the box.

"Here," she said, reaching a hand up to help the blonde, and tracing the tall girl's lower lip with her thumb, cleaning the sauce out.

A soft, almost soundless gasp escaped the blonde, and Michiru found herself suddenly fascinated by those pinkish, sauce-tainted lips. Not too full, but not too thin either; just perfectly defined, and so incredibly soft to the touch. They trembled somewhat, and she traced them once more, almost unconsciously. She caressed them once more, barely with the tip of her index and middle finger, cleaning the corner of Haruka's lips, captivated by the feeling of them against her fingers.

Still staring at those soft to the touch lips, she licked her fingers clean. And the heat came rushing to her cheeks when she realized what she was doing just as she looked up.

There it was, that brightly red, adorable blush all over the tall girl's face. Green eyes wide and opened as she just stared at her, mouth half opened and seemingly out of words. And she giggled at the sight, albeit a bit embarrassed herself.

"There," she said, trying to fight off her embarrassment as she cleaned the sauce off her fingers with a napkin. "You were a bit of a mess. Wouldn't want you to stain your clothes."

The blonde blinked. Her blush deepening, if that was even possible, and she coughed, trying to fight off the red off her cheeks. "Right…" she mumbled. "Thanks."

An embarrassed, awkward silence extended between the two, and Michiru berated herself. She was just so embarrassed. What had possessed her to do that?

True, she found the blonde's features captivating; it was the reason why she was still trying to capture her in a portrait. And her mind did that sometimes; get lost somewhere, even to herself, and she would do or say things without putting that much of a thought into it. Luckily for her, it was a rare occurrence; she wasn't an impulsive person, though the blonde did have the ability to bring that out in her awfully often.

"Did you come here?" she asked, trying to break the silence. "I mean, as a child," she added, when green eyes turned to her, "did your parents bring you here?"

"Yeah," the girl answered. "Right there?" she then said, as she pointed at the court a few feet behind the sandbox and a smile made it to her lips. "I got my ass kicked for the very first time ever, right there."

Michiru blinked at that, surprised and curious, and the blonde shook her shoulder, amused over the memory.

"My parents took me to Italy one summer," she began to explained, "and when we came back, there was this new kid on the block," she said, rolling her eyes. "He was your typical mean boy. The one that's always bullying others 'cause he's big and older and he thinks he's better than all the other kids."

"Sounds adorable," Michiru put in, ironically.

"Oh, yeah. A real charmer," the blonde chuckled. "Anyway. He put together a soccer team, and I wanted to play with them, but he wouldn't let me," she continued with her story. "He pushed me off saying girls were only allowed to play on the swing set or something," she said, rolling her eyes. "I was seven, and thin, and short. I mean, I was tall for my age…"

"You _are_ tall," the aquamarine haired girl pointed out.

"Yeah, but this kid was freaking _huge_," Haruka continued, her eyes going wide opened as she threw both hands in the air for emphasis. "He was two years older, and huge, and he pushed me real hard, so… I cried," she admitted, blushing lightly when Michiru giggled at her tale. "So I went back to my parents with my hands scratched and my butt hurting like hell, crying my little eyes out… yeah, laugh all you want," she said, only half accusing, chuckling despite herself as Michiru did, indeed, laugh.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, not really sorry at all, as she continued to laugh.

"You're laughing at a little, heartbroken seven year old," she pointed out, accusingly and playfully, chuckling again. "Shame on you."

"I'm sorry," she said again, calming herself down but still smiling. "It's just that… just imagining little you crying and pouting…" she trailed off, giggling. "It's really cute."

"I didn't say I was pouting, I said I was crying," Haruka corrected her, unable to suppress her own chuckles. "So I'm crying, begging to go home and swearing never to come back here, ever again," she continued, frowning and faking a serious expression. "And my dad told me that I shouldn't let anyone push me around, telling me what I can and can't do."

"That's a good advice," Michiru put in, smiling softly. She wished her parents -or anyone, really- would have said something like that to her when she was a child.

"Yeah," the blonde agreed, nodding her head. "One that has guided me this far."

The smile that came to Haruka's face, naturally sided and still holding some of its usual, trademark cockiness, was soft and endearing. It was the kind of smile that took upon one's lips when fond memories of someone dear come to mind. Though small, it held so much meaning, so much love; it was a true, honest smile, and Michiru knew, because of that, because of everything it meant, it wasn't a smile Haruka gave too often. It was solely reserved to those she kept close to her heart. And it made her look simply beautiful.

"So, did you?" she asked in a soft, low tone, not wanting to break the moment Haruka's words and smile had just created, but still curious about how the story ended. "Stand up for yourself?"

"No, I went home," Haruka answered, shaking her head. "My butt hurt, remember?" she pointed out. "But I did come back the next day," she soon added. "You know, after I licked my wounds and consulted what to do with my pillow."

A small laugh escaped her as she pictured a little eight year old Haruka crying and pouting. Even if the blonde said she wasn't putting, she could just picture her, curled in the middle of her bed, all sad and probably quite offended, with her pride wounded.

It was a really cute, adorable image.

"So what did you do?"

The smile that came to the blonde's lips then was a proud, and always sided one. "I challenged him," she answered. "I went up to him and challenged him to a race. Across the court and to that bench," she said, pointing at the end of the court and then to a bench, making a straight line, "and then all the way back," she explained. "If I won, he'd let me play. If I lost, I'd turn around and never bother him again."

"And you won," Michiru guessed, smiling.

"I kicked his ass," she corrected her, proudly. "Metaphorically, of course," she was fast to add.

"Of course," she said, nodding her head.

They shared a small laugh, falling into silence once more as they calmed down. All awkwardness gone now, they finished the rest of their dinner in a comfortable silence.

Haruka picked everything up, leaving only their sodas, and put everything back on the bags. Agreeing on not wanting to abandon the jungle gym to go searching for a trashcan, they decided to leave the bag to a side for a moment as they enjoyed the night, looking up at the starless sky.

Her eyes landed almost immediately on the bright moon, and she let out a sigh. That pull she had always felt made itself present and she let out a sigh, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked up; her dress covering her legs and cascading all around her frame. It was hard to ignore the white orb's strong magnetism, but she tried to, pushing it all to the back of her mind, not wanting to ruin the night with thoughts of the end of world.

Resolutely, she pushed that thought to the further corner of her mind, purposely ignoring the mysterious woman's presence dancing all around her in the night air. It seemed as if she was always there lately, and Michiru really didn't want to think about that; she didn't want her or destiny awaiting her to ruin her night.

Not tonight.

"Are you cold?"

Haruka's husky voice broke whatever spell the moon had on her. She blinked, turning to look at the blonde sitting next to her, just as she was removing her jacket.

"Oh, no," she was fast to say. "I'm fine."

"Right," the blonde said, not believing her words as she held the jacket out to help her put it on.

She wanted to decline the offer, saying she was perfectly fine. But the cold freeze of the early spring plotted against her, making her shiver involuntary and remembering her she had gave her jacket to Ayumu along with her violin. And when one blonde eyebrow went up in silent mockery she let out a sigh, silently admitting defeat and accepting the jacket, letting the blonde help her putting on.

The sleeves were a tad too long for her, her fingers barely peeking out, and she rearranged the material over her shoulders and front. A scent invading her nose as she did so, a hint of vanilla and something else, and she smiled; it smelt like Haruka.

She resisted the strange, sudden urge to take the lapel and bring it to her nose, letting out a sigh and looking up into green eyes instead.

"Better?" Haruka asked, gently rubbing a hand across her arm to warm her up.

Under any other circumstances and coming from anyone else, she would have thought the gesture to be a bit condescending. She hated being treated like a child, and people often saw her as a delicate little princess in need of being taken care of. But coming from Haruka, it didn't bother her at all; a little chivalrous, yes, but she knew the blonde was being thoughtful.

"Yes, thank you."

The blonde smiled, slightly nodding her head as she loosened her tie.

And Michiru frowned at that, only now noticing and fully appreciating the blonde's attire. The fitting vest kissed her figure perfectly, marking an incredibly thin waist, and the white silk of her shirt complemented her skin perfectly. The now loosen tie left Haruka's neck exposed, the hint of defined collarbones peeking under the now opened button, and Michiru had to admit, the blonde looked beautifully handsome.

With the moonlight, the natural pinkish shade of her lips seemed to accentuate and her eyes looked lighter. With the blonde, rebel bangs falling into her eyes, there was a certain air to her face. There was just something mysterious and powerful about her; intriguing, alluring, captivating, like an out of worldly creature.

She smiled upon her own thoughts. With her blonde hair, her green eyes, and that sided smile of hers, Haruka surely looked like a mischievous angel; coming down to earth to play, yet because of her very nature, always secretly waiting for the time to spread her wings and soar.

"Come fly with me."

.

.

.

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> Sorry it took me forever to write this! Date's not over, and hopefully, next chap will be up soon enough. Meanwhile, any thoughts?


	19. Chapter 19

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>19<strong>

The sudden request, strange as it was, made her blink in surprise, and she turned to look into amused blue eyes.

"You said we could have fun tonight," the girl said, giving her one of those adorable smiles of hers right before she stood up. "So, come on!"

Not really sure of what Michiru was up to, and kind of curious about her previous choice of words, she stood up as well.

She made the way down first, offering her help to Michiru when she came down, guessing that dress wasn't making the task any easier. And when, finally, they were both standing on the ground, bare feet playing with the sand and their shoes forgotten next to the juggle gym's ladder, Michiru smiled up to her, taking her hand and guiding her away from the game they had just got off of.

"So where's the jet?" she teased, though there was a clear hint of curiosity in her tone she was sure the aquamarine haired girl was perfectly able to pick up on. "Unless you can grow wings or have some sort of superpower," she continued joking, smiling widely when Michiru giggled. "Like Superman."

Again, Michiru giggled, turning on her heels and looking up at her. "Well, I left the jet home," she joked. "And some people believe that in order to grow wings, you have to die first," she stated, turning back around and gently pulling from the hand she still held in between hers. "But don't worry, I'm not planning on killing you."

She chuckled. "Nice to know that," she granted. "So, any superpowers?"

Michiru shook her head, offering an apologetic, yet still beautiful smile. "Sorry to disappoint you."

A little voice inside her told her such a thing as Michiru ever disappointing her was just not possible. And she took that little voice and squashed it, shutting it up and burying it to a deep corner of her mind.

_Keep it cool_, she reminded herself. This was just not the right time to be having that kind of thoughts, at the risk of doing or saying something embarrassing and putting herself out there. That little sauce incident had been embarrassing -and incredibly wonderful- enough already. And though there were certain things she just couldn't help, like offering her jacket to Michiru or making sure she wouldn't fall and get hurt when getting on and off the jungle gym, she had to keep in mind this was just not the right time to get carried away by these newly found feelings of hers.

They were just two friends having a nice time. The date title of the night was just that; a title. It wasn't real, no matter how much that annoying little voice inside her insisted on saying otherwise.

They walked up to the swing set and Michiru turned around, curling delicate fingers around the chains.

"To fly," she said, sitting down on the wooden seat, "you just need to use your imagination," she stated, right before she started swinging.

"How poetic," the blonde joked, trying incredibly hard not to notice how beautiful the girl looked, gently swinging.

The few curls that had escaped her bun were now framing her face beautifully, and the green material of her dress danced around her legs as she moved back and forth on her swing.

There was something surreal about it, about her, and it remind Haruka one of those Greek tales about beautiful nymphs. Not in the modern meaning of it, of course, but in the classical way they were described in ancient mythology; a juvenile, playful, beautiful creature bringing life to things with their singing.

In a way, Michiru was just like that. She brought her violin to life when she played, and the sound of her laughter was melodious and sweet. And she was just so captivating…

"Aren't you going to join me?"

Michiru's soft question forced her out of her own head, only now realizing she had been standing there, resting against the metal frame that held the structure, and staring at the girl the whole time she had been swinging.

"Right," she mumbled, more than a bit embarrassed for being caught like that and forcing the blush that wanted to come rushing to her cheeks off.

But Michiru either didn't notice this, or chose to ignore it, as she simply smiled and laughed when the blonde took the empty swing next to her.

"So what now?" Michiru asked as she kept on gently swinging back and forth. "You're the date expert," she then offered when Haruka just frowned at her. "So what do we do after dinner?"

"Well," she said, considering it for a moment. "We talk."

The girl tilted her head then, arching an eyebrow. "We do that all the time."

"Yeah, but… we're supposed to talk about stuff we don't normally talk about," she explained. "So that we can get to know each other better."

"Alright," Michiru said, nodding her head. "I already know your favorite color is gold and that you hate natto," she stated. "And since this is your first date too, I'm assuming there are no funny, ice breaker anecdotes about an ex-boyfriend."

"Isn't it too soon to be having the exes conversation?" she asked, amused over the imaginary subject of conversation.

"Not necessary," the girl argued. "It would have to be something funny to let me know you're at least interesting."

"At least?" Haruka repeated, frowning.

"Well, yes," Michiru continued. "You need to give me something so that I can decide if this is going anywhere or not. But it can't be anything too personal so that I don't get the idea of you still being emotionally attached to your ex."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I see you're quite the expert yourself."

"I watch movies too," she offered, smiling. "Though I have to admit, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the idea of you comparing me to a guy. So can we make this ex of yours a girl?" she then asked, frowning

She stopped her slow swinging at that, eyes going wide opened and cheeks going red.

She blinked, trying to figure out where was Michiru going with this. But when nothing even remotely reasonable came to mind, she just blinked again.

The violinist seemed to find her reaction amusing. "I don't think it's fair for you to compare me with a _guy_," she pointed out, laughing lightly.

She blinked again. And as a part of her brain pointed that such comparison was just not possible, for anyone else wouldn't even come close to Michiru, the other reminded her this was just a silly conversation based on what if's and theoretical scenarios.

"There are no exes," she stated. "Boy or girl."

"Good," Michiru said, nodding her head and smiling. "Because I'm not the sharing kind."

She forced a small chuckle out of her throat, trying to ignore the acrobatic jump her heart made inside her chest. "So what about you?" she asked, if only for the sake of conversation.

"Dead music geniuses and artists don't count, right?"

"Ah, no," she answered, chuckling. "Has to be alive."

The girl shook a shoulder. "Then no, no one has really caught my attention so far," she answered. "There is this one girl, though," she then added as a second thought, giving her a teasing smile that made her stomach jump up. "Wants to be a car racer. She's promising."

She knew the girl was just joking around, but she surely wasn't making things easier for her…

She arched an eyebrow, trying really hard not to blush, putting on a mockingly shocked expression instead. "Really?"

"Yes," Michiru said, nodding her head. "She's really charming, though her cocky attitude could use some work."

She winced at that. "Ouch!"

The violinist just laughed, leaning backwards as she swung forward. "I'm just messing with you," she said, smiling. "Your cockiness is part of your charm," she stated as she continued to swing.

_Don't over think it. Be yourself_, she reminded herself. But, damn it, it was really hard to act natural when Michiru kept on throwing things like that her way…

She started swinging again, trying hard to ignore Michiru's sweet laughter and the ways she looked as she moved back and forth. She was beginning to think this whole fake date idea was a really bad one…

"When was the last time you did something silly?" she asked, going for the first thing that popped into her head; being in silence was a bad idea right now, with her thoughts going on and on about the girl swinging next to her...

"Such as?"

Straightening up again on her swing, she turned to look at Michiru with a goofy smile on her face. "A swing competition."

The girl frowned. "You mean going as high as you can and then jumping off?" she asked, both curious and seemingly amused over the idea.

Haruka nodded. "Exactly."

Michiru hummed, tilting her head to a side as if considering for a moment. "Whoever jumps further away wins?"

"Yup."

"Alright," she agreed, nodding her head. "But if it's a competition, then whoever wins should get something."

"Good point," she agreed, nodding her head. "So what do you want?" she asked, curiously. But then she frowned. "And just to be clear, I'm not giving you my car."

Blue eyes narrowed at her, if only for a second, playfully offended, before Michiru laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, let's see… If I win…" she trailed off, as she tried to decide what she wanted. And when she finally got it, she gave her a wide, beautiful smile, though there was a hint of a challenge dancing in her blue eyes. "You have to take me to a restaurant next time."

She tried hard not to choke on her own breath at that, somehow managing to only arch an eyebrow. "Next time?"

"Of course," she said, nodding her head. "I'm not the one night stand kind of girl," she continued, teasingly.

And Haruka had to wonder if Michiru really knew what 'one night stand' actually meant…

"Theoretically," the girl continued, "if a date goes well, then a second one is up on the table," she reasoned.

"Ok…" Haruka mumbled, scratching the back of her neck. "And if I win?"

"I take you out on a date."

The blonde just frowned at that. "What's the difference?"

"If I win, dinner's on you," she explained. "Wine included, so no car," she instructed. "But you can skip the candles," she soon added. "That's kind of cheesy," she stated, shaking a hand around and frowning lightly, before she shook herself off, smiling again. "If you win, then… we do this again," she said, signaling to the playground in general. "But this time, under my terms. And you don't get to know a thing until we get there."

She chuckled at that. "That sounds like payback."

"It would be if tonight turns out bad," the girl simply pointed out, all the while smiling sweetly though slightly mockingly. "So think of it as a follow up."

She really was enjoying this, wasn't she? Teasing her -though Haruka had to wonder if Michiru was even aware of that- and challenging her like that. Damn, she really, seriously liked this girl…

Normally, she always aimed for the win, not being one to settle with second place. But on this particular case, and although she was curious as to what Michiru would come up with, Haruka had to admit, she didn't really mind one way or the other. Even if it wasn't as real as she'd like -a fact she found she needed to keep reminding herself of-, it would still be a second date either way, and for her, that was a win-win situation.

"So?" Michiru asked, standing up but not letting go of the swing, ready to start their little competition.

She grinned, accepting the challenge. "Alright," she said, standing up as well. "Ready," she announced, getting ready herself. "Go!"

They both jumped on, starting to swing as fast as they could, gaining height and speed in no time.

Her bangs kept on tossing around her face, but she didn't care, smiling widely when she heard Michiru's laughter filling the air all around them.

She was always so busy with everything, school, her part-time job, training, and then trying to figure out those strange dreams of hers, she rarely ever did something silly just for the fun of it. And doing it with Michiru added a certain something to it, making it all that much more special.

They were swinging in sync now, both trying to up race and go higher than the other. But it was obvious that was just not going to happen, and so when they swung forward, Michiru gave the signal. Swinging backwards one last time, she stretched her legs out putting as much momentum as she could and then leaped off when she reached the peak of her swing.

The small trip through the air felt unbelievably good, making her heart jump in content inside her. For the split of a second, she wished she could stay there forever, dancing in the wind. But when her feet hit the sand she forgot all about it.

But she didn't have time to wonder if she had won or not. The second her feet hit the sand and she landed gracefully in her two feet a good distance away from the swing set, something crushed against her back.

Apparently, Michiru had decided her landing spot would be the one Haruka was occupying now, and they collided together, stumbling down.

She managed not to eat sand and landed on her side instead, with one aquamarine haired girl half on top of her.

"I'm sorry!" the girl apologized. "Are you alright?"

She blinked, once, before she burst out laughing. Letting herself fall down on the sand, she laughed, hard and loud and uncontrollably.

Michiru joined her in, laughing as well as she got off the blonde, resting on her side over the sand, supporting herself with her elbow.

"I'm sorry," Michiru apologized again once they both calmed down a little. "I didn't mean to crush you," she said, with that sweet smile still dancing in her lips and mirth filling those amazingly blue eyes of hers.

"It's ok," she said, imitating the girl and propping herself up with her elbow. "I'm fine."

The girl did a cute little gesture then, frowning slightly and making her nose wrinkle. She tilted her head over her shoulder, making the curls that had escaped her hairdo fall down her arm, cascading to the sand below. A few fell to her face, and before Haruka realized what she was doing, she found her own hand reaching out, gently tucking the aquamarine curl behind Michiru's ear.

And then she froze.

Time stopped still, and the entire world reduced to those blue eyes now looking into her own green ones.

There was something indescribable in Michiru's eyes; something Haruka couldn't quite read. Nervousness? Eagerness? Shyness, maybe? There was a light blush now decorating the girl's cheeks, and as she noticed Michiru licking her lips, Haruka's breath got caught in her throat.

Her hand had somehow made it from Michiru's ear to her jawline; the tip of her thumb lingering over the girl's blushed cheek. And she was in trance, completely taken by the violinist's spell, with her entire body shaking slightly, nervous and anxious.

Blue eyes blinked repeatedly a few times as Michiru's blush turned a shade darker and a sound that resembled a gasp escaped the girl. But she took the fact that she was not pulling away as a good sign and gathered her courage, getting closer.

With her heart thundering in her ears, she saw blue eyes drifting closed and she closed her own, ready to find out what Michiru's lips tasted like.

And then something unexpected interrupted her.

Something wet, right on the hand she still held against Michiru's cheek.

Green eyes flung open and she frowned at the drop of water.

She heard a soft, surprised exclamation coming from the girl next to her and she turned back to her just to see her whipping a drop off her cheek.

They looked at each other for a moment before a loud thunder filled the quiet night, making them look up at the suddenly completely covered sky. And as they did so, another drop landed right on Haruka's forehead.

And then another one. And another one.

"Oh!" Michiru exclaimed, blinking in surprise as the rain started falling.

"Crap!" the blonde exclaimed.

Getting up fast, she helped the girl up as well. Going to the jungle gym to get their shoes, they both silently agreed to go for a mad rush barefoot as the rain turned into a downpour.

"Come on!" she yelled over another loud thunder, taking Michiru's hand in her free one.

The ground was slippery now, making the run harder and forcing the blonde to slow down. Still holding Michiru's hand, she wanted to go to the passenger side to open the door for her, but the violinist silently but surely pushed her to the driver's side instead, urging her to unlock the car.

Getting in, she threw her shoes over her shoulder and to the backseat just as Michiru shut the passenger's door closed. They sat there in the dark, with nothing but the sound of water all around them. Completely soaked from head to toes, they looked at each other for a moment, before they both burst out laughing.

She wasn't sure if she was laughing to shake her embarrassment, to break the awkwardness of the almost moment they just had before the rain started, or because the little mad run under the rain had actually been funny. The end result of that surely was, with the both of them completely soaked, hair dripping wet and clothing sticking to their bodies, still barefoot, and slightly agitated after their run.

Either way, she laughed, tilting her head up and resting against the head restraint.

"I'm guessing this wasn't part of your plan?" Michiru said, still laughing lightly.

She chuckled. "No, not really," she answered, shaking her head. "Guess I should've checked the weather forecast."

"Probably," the girl agreed, giggling. "You look like a mess," she then added, pointing at the bangs sticking to her face.

Again, she chuckled, looking down on herself and taking in her soaked shirt and vest, and the probably ruined pants.

"Thank you," she said, nodding her head. "You look lovely yourself," she pointed out; Michiru wasn't any drier either.

Of course, that was no lie. Only, lovely wasn't even close.

Michiru was drenched. The dress now clung to her every curve, and her wet curls were stuck to her face and neck. Far from being ruined, that elegant, composed air from earlier was still there. But now, with her hair and dress all wet, a few drops still decorating her skin, falling down her neck and hiding under the line of her cleavage, and still wrapped around Haruka's jacket… well, she looked beautiful.

Fresh, young, ethereal. And simply beautiful.

"Why, thank you!" Michiru said, smiling and giggling softly, completely unaffected by her current state.

The girl laughed again, and Haruka turned around, shaking her head and inserting the key before the way the girl looked right now, wet and laughing and beautiful, could really affect her. Her state of mind was fragile enough as it was, with all these new feelings of hers, the object of her affection sitting right next to her, and that almost kiss still affecting her.

The blonde started the wipers then, and they both looked up at the darkened sky through the windshield for a moment as Haruka set the climate control.

Michiru smiled in appreciation, rubbing her hands against the wet material of the jacket and reacomodating herself on her seat.

"Come on," the blonde said, starting the engine. "I'll take you home before you catch a cold."

.-.

The trip to the Kaioh residence was, for the most part, quiet.

She entertained herself surfing through radio stations, stopping when she would find a song of her liking and then changing again when the song ended. They would make a comment or another, hum to the song playing and laugh lightly, and then they would both agree on hating it whenever the VJ would start talking over the song, completely ruining the ending. But other than that, the blonde kept herself to her driving task and let her played with the radio as she pleased.

She was used to being with the blonde and not talking. It was something they did sometimes, just sitting next to one another, enjoying each other's company. But it felt different now.

It wasn't exactly uncomfortable. It was just… pregnant.

She wasn't quite sure of what had happened back there, right before the rain started. She had been caught in the moment, and there had been something in those green eyes. Something calling out to her, drowning her. Filling her.

If the rain hadn't started, they would have kissed. And Michiru was surprised to find herself wishing the rain would have started just a minute later. Just one, and the kiss would have happened.

The game, the playground, the moment. Haruka. It had all been just so perfect, and a kiss would've been just magical.

She wasn't the romantic kind of girl, and normally, she didn't really put that much thought into romance and relationships. And she knew the entire date was just a game; she knew it wasn't real. So why did it feel real? Why did she suddenly want… more?

The radio helped. It helped distracting her from the beautifully handsome blonde sitting right next to her, that look upon her green eyes just earlier, and how tempting her lips had seemed.

By the time they reached Kaioh residence, Michiru didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed.

The blonde parked right next to the doorway, and it only took a couple of seconds before she saw Ayumu through the frosted glass door, umbrella in hand and ready to help her inside. And as the door opened up she turned back to the blonde, looking up and right into her eyes for the first time since they first got into the car.

"This is me," she said, stating the obvious, if only to break the silence. "Thank you for the ride."

"No problem," the blonde said, nodding her head. "Sorry for the unintentional shower," she then added, tilting her head to a side and frowning lightly, though that sided smile of hers made it to her lips.

"It was kind of funny," she pointed out, giggling softly and remembering their clumsy run to the car, shoes in hand and the downpour getting them soaked in no time.

Haruka chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah…" the blonde mumbled, turning to look up front and to some point on the windshield.

They fell in silence once more, and Michiru shifted in her seat. Was it always going to be like this between them from now on? Avoiding each other's eyes and just being weird and uncomfortable?

Everything had been going so well just half an hour ago. What changed? What had happened?

She had some serious thinking to do. But for now, and not really knowing what else to do but get out and get inside the house, she put on her shoes, ready to do just that.

"So… I'll see you next Tuesday?" the blonde asked, looking past Michiru and to the doorway, and the aquamarine haired girl guessed Ayumu was already standing on the door steps, waiting for her.

She nodded, returning the soft, small smile and readying to get out.

As if on cue, Ayumu stepped up to the car, umbrella in hand, and for a moment, Michiru wished for some privacy.

But then she frowned upon that thought. Privacy for what?

"Thank you for tonight," she said, getting the blonde's attention once more as green eyes turned to her. "I had a really nice time."

Haruka smiled. "Me too."

Gathering her still wet, and by now completely wrinkled dress in her hands, she nodded her head to Ayumu, she allowed him to open the door for her.

But before accepting his hand and getting out, she turned back around. Out of impulse, she met the distance between them and gifted the blonde's cheek with a soft kiss.

The surprised expression all over Haruka's face, green eyes blinking and a blush rushing to her cheeks, was more than worth it.

"Goodnight," she said, giggling softly at how adorable the tall girl looked right now.

The blonde chuckled, albeit nervously. But the smile she gave her was soft and warm. "Goodnight, Michi."

With that, she got off the car and smiled in appreciation to Ayumu as he held the umbrella for her, even though she was get already.

The car took off and she entered the house. Her father's voice reached her through the hallway, and she guessed he was probably talking -or rather, arguing- over the phone. But she didn't bother on making her arrival known, whishing goodnight to Ayumu and climbing up the stairs instead.

It wasn't until she reached her room and kicked her shoes off that she realized she was still wearing Haruka's jacket.

Not bothering on turning on the lights, she walked up to the window, looking out at the direction she had seen the car taking. Securing the jacket around herself, she brought the lapel to her nose; a smile coming to her lips as Haruka's rich, distinctive scent filled her nostrils.

"Goodnight, Ruka."

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><p><strong>A.N.:<strong> So sorry for the huge delay! It took forever for the right muse to write this one to come and visit me. It's all been about another story I'm working on lately, and then there are a few personal projects (I have a website now! Yay me!) and class and life... Hopefully, next chap won't take as long (key word there, hopefully). But, hey! The romance is finally starting, right? Right?

Alrightie, I'm gonna go and start next chap now. In the mean time and as you guys wait for it, any thoughts?


	20. Chapter 20

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>20<strong>

The day had been ridiculously long.

First, she had had an unusual hard time getting out of bed. Soft green eyes and sided smiles mixing with her foggy and already strange enough dreams, she had missed her own alarm and would have slept in if it wasn't for her father's housekeeper coming to wake her up.

And then she had had a hard time concentrating in class. Which, again, was something completely unusual. But she couldn't help it; she had found herself drifting off and thinking of a certain blonde girl instead of concentrating in her lessons.

And it had been like that the entire day. She couldn't stop thinking about her.

She was everywhere. The still dark clouds and the rain that had been on and off all day reminded her of that almost kiss; the explanation of the rate of acceleration during her physics class reminded her of cars, and of one particular girl who wanted to be a racer; the debate in literature class reminded her of a deep, husky voice, and how the intonation would change every now and then when talking about something she found particularly interesting. Even her music class, which usually represented a getaway for her, a gate to her own, private world, now reminded her of the blonde; when playing her violin, all she could think of was the way the blonde had looked the night before, right after her performance, and that look upon green eyes, the soft smile decorating defined features…

It was as if she couldn't escape the tall girl. She was in her thoughts, in her dreams; everywhere. She didn't really remembered what she had dreamed about, but she distinctly remembered seeing green eyes and blonde hair, that sided smile she could recognize anywhere, and that husky voice whispering… something.

It was as if, all of a sudden and ever since the night before, the tall girl had invaded her every thought. And Michiru wasn't quite sure of how she felt about that.

Closing the door behind her, she undid the tie around her neck and kicked her shoes off, letting out a long, tired sigh.

She frowned upon finding the dorm empty; curfew had already started, and everyone was already in bed. Except maybe for that secret club that wasn't that secret at all. Michiru suspected those girls had had everything to do with the sweet, quiet girl with a scholarship that had been kicked out of school for 'outrageous behavior' a few months ago; they were probably gathered up in the attic right above the library right now, deliberating on what measures were needed to 'rule the school' and keep their beloved status quo intact.

Shaking her head, she took her shirt and skirt off. Yoshi and Sayuri had probably sneaked out and wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, and Michiru was thankful for the moment of quietness and privacy.

She liked her roommates, and though they were definitively not the innocent kind, Michiru was glad they were nothing like the 'queens of campus'. But their banter and arguments and jokes were constant, and right now, she needed a time alone.

She needed to clear her mind and put her thoughts in order.

A warm shower sounded delightful right now. She didn't mind about curfew; if she was fast and quiet, no one would know. It wouldn't be the first time she took a shower after everyone else had gone to sleep, and though she wasn't one to break the rules, the late night shower right before bed she sometimes took was her one, small, innocent little secret; one that had made her particularly good at sneaking out and being extremely quiet.

With that in mind, she took the rest of her clothes off and put on her robe, and, grabbing a towel from her closet, she stepped out of the room.

Without making a sound, she closed the door behind her and stepped into the hallway, looking one way and then the other and making sure there was no one around. If her calculations were right, the nun in charge of making the night rounds had already walked past her door. Still, she made her way to the showers quietly but hurriedly.

Again, making no sound, she walked into the shower room and locked the door behind her. Resting against the metal door, a satisfied smile made it to her lips at the by now more than just promising idea of a warm, relaxing shower. But just as she was about to let out a content sigh, someone else did.

She frowned, turning around on her spot.

Another sigh. This time a bit louder, and… giggling?

Stepping away from the door, she walked into the locker section. There was a pair of dark blue jeans and a black laced tee folded over a bench, and then the school's uniform forming a messy pile on the floor, right over what Michiru could only guess were shoes.

Whoever was in there, was obviously planning on sneaking out to party.

She shook her head and was just about to turn around and go back to her dorm -if whoever was in there got caught, she certainly didn't want to go down with them. Specially when she had no intentions whatsoever of leaving campus-, when something got her attention.

It sounded like… kissing.

Another giggle followed, and she knew for sure, there was more than one person in there.

"Be quiet," came the hushed whisper from a voice she founded extremely familiar. "Do you want Mother Superior to walk in on us?"

The laughter that followed was soon muffled, if only to increase Michiru's curiosity even more.

"Sayuri!" came the same hushing voice, this time with a clear chastising tone.

And Michiru's eyes went wide opened.

"I'm sorry!" came another voice. A voice Michiru was sure belonged to her redhead roommate.

Which meant the first one was probably Yoshi.

Not wanting her roommates to think she was spying on them, but with her curiosity getting the better of her, she walked up to the end of the lockers, taking a peek at the portion of the showers she could see from her hiding position.

And indeed, wearing nothing but a laced black bra and matching panties, the redhead was right there, back against one of the walls. Wearing black skinny jeans and matching black bra, a denim shirt laying forgotten on the tiled floor, and taking advantage of the height difference her high heeled booties offered, Yoshi was all but hovering over the redhead, with her hands on Sayuri's wrists, pinning her to the wall and keeping her there.

"Just thinking about her face..." the redhead trailed off.

"That's not what I'm thinking of right now," Yoshi purred, sensually.

"Naughty," Sayuri accused, playfully, as she gifted the other with a smile Michiru could only classified as completely sexual.

"Shut up," the other said, right before capturing Sayuri's lips with hers.

It was a deep, slow, passionate kiss, and it made Michiru uncomfortable.

She wasn't stupid; she had always suspected there were more than just friends. But they had never said anything about it, and spying on them like this felt wrong.

She knew it was wrong. But for some reason, she couldn't make herself to move. She couldn't take her eyes off the kissing girls. And so she watched as Yoshi let go of Sayuri's wrists, letting her hands travel down her arms and to her the redhead's breasts, earning a soft, sensual gasp from the girl in the process. She saw as Sayuri's hands buried in Yoshi's hair, caressing her skull as the other's hands travel down again, encircling around the girl's thin waist and bringing their bodies closer.

And then Yoshi pushed the redhead further into the wall, pressing herself against the girl, hips rocking together. And as she let go of Sayuri's lips to travel down her neck, hips rocking together and a soft, low moan escaping the redhead as the other massaged her breasts, something else entirely flashed through Michiru's eyes.

It was her against the wall.

She imagined she was the one with her back against the wall, in that very same state of clothing. Only, it was not Yoshi the one oh so gently, so sensually massaging her breasts. It was not her lips on her neck, her hips against hers, her hands now caressing her exposed stomach.

It was Haruka.

When Yoshi's hand sneaked inside Sayuri's panties, caressing her in between her legs and making the other girl moan lowly and sensually, a deep blush rushed to Michiru's cheeks, and she snapped out of her trance-like state.

Incredibly embarrassed, she turned around. Desperately trying to be quiet, not wanting to get caught spying like that, she hurriedly made the way out of the room as quietly as she could. And then she all but ran back to her dorm; her light, bare feet meeting the marbled floor soundlessly as she entered her dorm and closed the door behind her, resting against the wooden surface and trying to catch her breath.

For some reason, she was far more agitated than what that small jog should have made her. And as the logical part of her brain offered a reason to that, her blush deepened.

It was so embarrassing! First spying on her roommates, and then thinking of her friend like that…

She was mortified.

Shaking her head, forcing the images still dancing in her mind off, she took the robe she was still wearing off. Grabbing the black satin slip under her pillow, she put it on, and turning the sheets down, she got into bed.

Curling to the side, blue eyes looked out the window and at the white orb shining proudly up there, and she took a deep breath; with the images of what she just saw, of what she imagined still jumping in her mind, she almost wished for one of those dreams or visions of hers to come.

One thing was to get carried away, to almost kiss the girl in their faked date. To wish it happened, with her stomach doing excited, nervous little jumps inside her at the thought of those soft, thin, curved lips…

That was one thing. Letting her suddenly very active imagination run away with her, taking paths she had never even considered before was another.

Blue eyes blinked up to the ceiling as the undeniable realization hit her, straight in the face, like a bucket of cold water.

She was attracted to the blonde. She couldn't deny it anymore. She couldn't ignore it.

And it wasn't just physical either. Yes, Haruka was a very beautiful girl, with her blonde hair and her soft green eyes, her sided smiles and her tall, slender body. Her high cheekbones, the define line of her jaw, her small, pointy little nose and the curve of her lips; her husky voice and her deep laughter. She was beautiful in her own, unique way.

But it wasn't just her looks. It was more than that wild, untamed air all around and about her that Michiru found herself so attracted to. It was the way her mind worked; the way she talked and acted, the way she carried herself through life. Her jokes, her strong opinions and the way she was not afraid to voice them; her self secured nature and that sheer determination that propel her into doing all the things she wanted to do, to fulfill her dreams.

There was nothing about the tall girl Michiru didn't like. Even her stubbornness and that conceited, sometimes quite acid attitude of hers was attractive.

Yes, she was attracted to Haruka. Without her even realizing it, the blonde had gone from being her friend, to being something else entirely, and now the violinist wasn't sure of how to react to that. What was she supposed to do now? What was she to do with all these feelings she was just now realizing she had for the tall blonde girl?

Letting her imagination run wild on her was not the way, that was for sure. It wouldn't lead her anywhere; it wouldn't do her any good. And yet…

She imagined what it would be like, to taste those thin, defined lips. To play with her own against them in sweet, feather like kisses; to feel a warm, playful tongue entering her mouth, playfully rustling with hers.

She would encircle her arms around that long neck, her hands burying in blonde hair, her fingers running through soft, velvet like locks in sweet, tender caress. A soft, almost soundless gasp would escape her as long arms would encircle themselves around her waist, bringing a long, warm body closer to her own.

Blue eyes drifted closed as a million little butterflies came to life in the tip of her stomach and a particular scent, strong yet delicate, distinctive, intoxicating filled her nostrils.

A hand made it to her stomach, slowly fingering the fabric of her slip, traveling down her stomach. It caressed her lower belly, softly, gently, and then stopped, lingering over the hem of her panties, wanting to imitate Yoshi's movements back at the shower room, but shyly hesitating.

It wasn't Michiru's hand; it was hers…

.-.

_(censured! to read go to my website)_

.-.

She fell onto her pillow, out of breath and still caught up in her haze; hands resting at each side of her head over the pillow and body completely relaxed and limp. The wind played with her hair and caressed her flushed face and a tired, soft sigh escaped her parted lips as blue eyes drifted close.

Completely drained, sleep came to her without her even knowing it; laying on her back, head to a side and towards the window, a sleepy smile drew itself in her lips, unknown, as the gentle wind of the night lulled her to sleep.

_Neptune…_


	21. Chapter 21

Hi there! *waves hands as if she hasn't been MIA for months* Guess what, guys? New chap!

Sorry for the delay. I've been incredibly busy lately (still am), and I have little to no free time at all. And for some reason, the words for this chap just wouldn't come to me... anyway! I finally got it done, and here it is! It's probably not what you've all been waiting for, but good news is, the story is finally starting to go somewhere!

So, hope you forgive me for taking so long to write this, but most of all, I hope you guys enjoy this new chap!

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><p><strong>Discalimer: <strong>Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

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><p><strong>21<strong>

She got off the bus, rearranging the gray mole colored wrap miniskirt and taking care of imaginary wrinkles on her white, buttoned down white shirt; a light pink tank top underneath, and dark gray, peep-toe booties on her feet.

With her bag hanging from her shoulder, she hugged her violin case to her chest. She didn't even know why she had brought it with her in the first place; she didn't have practice today, and she wasn't planning on going to the park later on to play her mind away, either.

She had no valid reason to justify her carrying her instrument, and yet, she had taken it with her when leaving school campus. And now she held on to it like a shield as she made her way down the street and up to the library, taking unnecessary slow steps.

She was procrastinating. In her own, silly little way, she was delaying the moment she would have to climb up the entry steps of the public building, past the reception and up the stairs. Because, after that, walking past the central common tables, down to a very specific isle, was a very specific blonde girl. Waiting for her, like she always did every Tuesday afternoon, knowing the violinist would show up for their usual library hang outs.

And although a part of her wanted to do that, to break into a run and make her way up as fast as her legs would carry her, ridiculously anxious and with thousands of excited, agitated little butterflies dancing in her stomach, another part of her was mortified and nervous beyond words.

She was just so embarrassed, and she had no idea of how she was supposed to act around the tall girl anymore. Was she supposed to act normal, talking and laughing and joking, as if last Thursday never happened? As if everything was exactly the same and nothing changed?

But it had changed! For her, everything changed, and now she didn't know what to do about it.

She blamed the blonde for this. She blamed that charming smile, and those beautiful green eyes, and her husky voice. She blamed that fake date and that almost kiss. She was sure that, without all that, she wouldn't have ended up feeling like this.

But most of all, she blamed the rain. She resented it for coming on such an inappropriate time, completely ruining the moment and leaving her with all these questions. Questions which answers she didn't know, didn't have, and she didn't like that.

She hated it.

The questions forced her to look deeper into feelings, which in return brought out even more questions.

Yes, there was excitement and her heart doing funny little jumps inside her chest every time green eyes and blonde bangs stubbornly falling into them came to her mind, assaulting her every thought. But there was also uncertainty and nervousness, and not knowing what to do next, and she hated being this unsure. She wasn't used to being unsure of herself, and she hated how inadequate and uncertain it all made her feel.

Being friends with someone was something new to the violinist. Having someone she could trust on, talk to, open up to, knowing there would never be any judgment, any malice coming from the other person. A teasing word or two, an amused chuckle, sure; and though the blonde was a strongly opinionated person, Michiru knew Haruka would never judge her.

During their twice a week meetings, Michiru had come to know the blonde so well, it didn't feel like it had been only a month at all. It felt as if she had been hearing to the blonde's husky, raspy voice for years, listening to her jokes and playfully scolding her for her sometimes colorful, most certainly un-lady like choice of words, secretly amused by it, knowing that was just the way Haruka was.

The truth was, Michiru wouldn't change a thing about her blonde friend, even if it were up to her to do so. She knew and appreciated all those little treats that made the blonde who she was; her free-spirited, wild nature, her passion for sport cars and fast engines, her secret love for music that spoke from and for the heart and her more obvious addiction to speed and adrenaline. She wholeheartedly enjoyed Haruka's random topics of conversation, the way she would clearly state exactly what she thought about certain things with just a roll of her eyes and maybe a snort, her charmingly chivalrous tendencies and, yes, her colorful words.

Yes, having a friend was something new, and yet Michiru felt as if she had known the blonde her entire life. She trusted Haruka's judgment and appreciated her words, and she knew she could trust the taller girl with anything.

Well, almost anything. There were certain things Michiru just couldn't tell the blonde, no matter how much she trusted her. Specially when she wasn't quite sure of what those things were, exactly, of what it all meant. And in all honesty, Michiru couldn't think of a way to even try to begin to explain it all without sounding like a mentally ill person.

But that was an entirely different matter. And keeping secrets from her friend was not what bothered her. And after spending the majority of Saturday thinking about their fake date -and how it real it had actually felt for her- and her own actions the night before, the final conclusion had been plain and obvious, and surprisingly enough, realizing she was attracted to another girl didn't bother her.

Maybe she was much more of a modern girl than she had ever thought, and the believes and standards she had been taught, the rules society set for young women had never really been instilled in her that deeply. Or maybe she was already well beyond the point of caring about that. But the truth was she never really put that much thought into finding herself a boyfriend and future husband, and she had never been interested in a man before in her life. And though completely new to her, these feelings towards one tall girl were there, and she couldn't deny it.

She purposely ignored the fact that her past self had been involved in a romantic relationship with another woman. That was the past, and she didn't know much about it yet. In any case, while her destiny may still be the same regarding her duties -again, something she didn't know much about yet-, when it came to her own feelings, she refused to believed there was any kind of connection between her past and her present; this mysterious woman had nothing to do with Haruka. As far as Michiru was concerned, the only connection between the two was the fact that they were both female. And tall; she did remember this Uranus character being taller than her.

So no, being attracted to another girl didn't bother her either. What did bother her was not knowing what to do about this newfound feelings of hers. The tall blonde girl was Michiru's very first friend, for real, and she went ahead and completely ruined it by developing a crush on her.

A warming red came to her cheeks. _A not so innocent crush_, a voice inside her head said, reminding her of her actions four days ago, and the consequential state of mind she had been in ever since. Vaguely, she wondered if this was what every other person meant by 'head in the clouds'.

What was she supposed to do now?

"Miss Kaioh?" a male voice got her out of her own head just as she was making her way the small set of steps that led to the library.

Startled, she blinked and turned around. As much as a part of her longed to look into soft green emeralds, the mirth making them shine in the light, another part of her was grateful for the distraction and delayed, as she had not yet decided on what to do with this crush of hers, or how to go about it.

Forcing those thoughts to a side for a moment, she frowned, eyeing the young man standing in front of her now.

A few inches taller than her, he seemed to be around the same age, maybe a year or two older. His dark brown hair fell onto amber eyes, and he pushed it off with his hand, only for the bangs to fall right back over his face. And there was a somewhat awkward smile on his lips as he stood there, looking at her and waiting for confirmation.

"Yes?" she acknowledged finally, now really curious about who this guy could possibly be, for she was sure she had never seen him before in her life.

She didn't want to be the judgmental kind, but just by the looks of him it seemed obvious they didn't belong to the same social circles. He was wearing plain, a bit washed out jeans, his boots could use a bit of polishing, and although Michiru was aware of everything that could classify as 'vintage' being the new hot thing on the fashion department, she was sure that dark green cargo jacket had surely seen better days.

He was no socialite. And by the lack of a bag or even a book or notebook, Michiru guessed he was not there to go into the library either.

The smile that came to his lips was more than a bit goofy, as he nodded his head several times and openly eyed her up and down, checking her out. "Wow," he mumbled, looking up and into her eyes again; that silly smile never leaving his features. "Haruka said to look for a pretty girl, but… man! I thought she was just messing with me!"

She blinked, both surprised and curious. And then she frowned, wanting to ask how did he know Haruka and why was he here instead of the tall blonde.

But the words leaving her lips were completely different. "Haruka said that?"

"Well… actually… she said 'beautiful girl, private school uniform or very classy, stylish clothes," he said, reading the instructions that were written on a small sticky note he produced out of his pocket. "'Unique hair, probably caring a violin'," he read again, smiling broadly and proudly up to her as he pointed first at her hair and then at her case.

She blinked then, once, just as a light blush came rushing to her cheeks. Had Haruka really used those words? Had she said she was beautiful?

A small smile made it to her lips and her stomach jumped inside her as she looked down at the case she was still holding close to her chest. It seemed to blonde knew her well enough to guess Michiru would be carrying her violin, even if she had had no real reason to bring it with her in the first place.

"She also told me not to hit on you," he then added, making her look up at him again; his smile turning wide and charming, though in Michiru's mind still kind of goofy. "So to avoid the chance of her kicking my ass, I promise I won't ask you out," he assured her. "Unless you want me to, of course," he was fast to add. "But that would totally ruin my chances with her, so we should keep it on the down low."

She blinked, unsure of what to make of that little speech of his, and not entirely sure if she should take his hidden invitation seriously or not -not that she would say yes, but still, she wondered if she should be scandalized or insulted by it-, when something clicked. And she laughed lightly, nodding her head.

"You must be Shirou," she guessed, remembering Haruka mentioning him a few times in the past.

He squared his shoulders, straightening his back and doing a salute, before he changed his mind and then took an imaginary hat off his head, bowing his head gallantly. "The one and only, at your service."

She nodded, laughing lightly at his antics.

Yes, she remembered all the little tales about Haruka's flirtatious co-worker. The blonde had always sounded more than just a little annoyed at Shirou's attempts to ask her out, complaining about how the guy just wouldn't take no for an answer. And though Michiru could now see what the blonde meant when saying the guy just wouldn't give up, she couldn't help but finding him rather amusing.

He looked more like an eager pre-teenager boy talking to a girl for the very first time ever since his voice started changing rather than the young man he actually was. And as his eyes adverted down and to her legs, Michiru understood where Haruka's annoyance came from; it was as if Shirou had never seen a girl's legs -or figure- ever before.

Pushing that line of thought to a side, deciding that whether he had been locked up in some secluded place his entire life and had recently been left out and to the real world was irrelevant and with little to no meaning to her at all, she focused on the more important matter at hand. Such as, why was he here, instead of Haruka? It was obvious she had sent him here, but why?

It had happened once or twice before, one of them being unable to make it to their weekly meetings. They usually told one another beforehand, avoiding leaving the other waiting in vain. But every now and then unexpected things happened, like her swimming coach deciding the team needed extra training for an upcoming match, or Haruka's boss calling her on her day off because some important client of his wanted his car fixed by yesterday.

So yes, it had happened before. They had never exchanged phone numbers or even e-mail addresses, for whatever reason -a fact Michiru found curious, but something she always forgot to bring up when the blonde was around-, but neither of them had sent for someone to warn the other on those occasions; they both had -correctly- assumed something just came up and wouldn't be able to make it to their meeting place.

A part of her was disappointed, as it was clear to her she would not be seeing the tall blonde today. But the other part, the part that was still embarrassed and confused as to what to do with herself now that she had feelings for said blonde, was more than a little relieved; at least it bought her some more time to think things carefully.

"Matsumoto's going crazy on her and making her practice every day, so she asked me to meet you here," Shirou offered, straightening himself back up after his little gallant gesture.

"Practice?" she asked, frowning lightly. "Is she racing?" she asked, a small, excited smile coming to her lips then.

"Yeah," he answered, nodding his head. "You should see that girl on the tracks!" he then exclaimed, letting out a whistle. "Man, she's fast!"

It was obvious Shirou was excited; he was probably a racing fan. But as his excitement robbed off on her -quite possibly, for entirely different reasons-, Michiru grew a little impatient.

"So she is racing?" she asked, anxious. "When?"

"Oh, right!" Shirou said, hitting his forehead with his hand. "She'll be real busy for the next couple of days, but she wanted me to tell you, the race is this Saturday."

Michiru nodded her head vigorously, taking mental note of everything Shirou said. He gave her the location and exact time of the race along with her car number and a few other indications. Looking into his back pocket, he produced a small pack of tickets and handed her one, which Mcihiru took eagerly.

Before ever meeting the blonde, she would never have thought possible being this excited about going to a car race; it really wasn't her thing at all. But knowing how important it was for Haruka, how much it meant for her, and knowing this was her chance to see the blonde in her world, Michiru couldn't help herself.

Shirou hesitated, tilting his head to a side, before handing her a few more tickets. "Here, bring some friends along with you," he said, smiling widely. "It's always good to have pretty girls on the stands to look at."

She blinked up at him at that. "So you'll be there too?"

She knew she had just sounded a bit more excited than she had originally intended, and judging by his broad smile Michiru knew, he was probably taking her excitement the completely wrong way. But she would be venturing into a completely unfamiliar world after all, and considering one tall blonde girl would be busy behind the wheel of a racing car, a somewhat familiar face there with her to maybe help her out and answer the ten thousand and one questions that would inevitably jump to her mind didn't sound like such a bad idea to her.

"'Course!" he answered, winking at her. "I'm part of the team."

Even if he was a bit too flirty.

"So, you'll be there?" he asked, making sure.

She nodded her head. "Of course," she assured him.

She had made a deal with the racer after all, and the blonde did show up to her concert; being there for her was the least she could do. And she owed the blonde a date, too, so maybe she could use up the opportunity to pay.

But Michiru knew that, even without that, and considering her affections for the tall girl, she wouldn't miss it for the world. If only Saturday didn't seem like an eternity away.

.-.

His lover tongue circled around his navel, teasing him. And he closed his eyes, enjoying the ministrations and letting out an expectant sigh as those lips followed the path of his body hair, down his lower abdomen and towards his aching, waiting manhood.

This was why he loved having young, inexperienced assistants; they were always so eager to learn and please…

His pants came undone, and just as that young, hot mouth was about to enclose itself around his hard member, the door burst opened, and he looked up, startled. His lover jumped up and away, and he barely had time to cover himself up before a bright light filled the room, blinding him for a moment.

_Shit_, he cursed, recognizing the sound of a camera capturing this very moment.

"What the fuck?" he yelled, blinking the spots dancing in front of his eyes as he tried to clear his vision.

"Well, well, well," a female voice he recognized immediately said. "What would uncle Katashi say about this," she said, in a mocking tone.

But the threat didn't escape him, and he narrowed his eyes at her. _Damn girl…_

"It would break his heart, for sure," she said, now looking at the small screen on her digital camera and at the picture she had just taken.

"Masuyo, what a _pleasure_ to see you," he said, not bothering on hiding his annoyance at both her presence and her threat.

He knew it was an empty one, anyway; she had always known about his preference and particularly soft spot for his young, male assistants. And as long as he had something to offer her, she would keep her big, venomous mouth shut.

And he always had something to offer in exchange of her silence. Masuyo would always need someone to do the dirty work for her, after all.

Black eyes turned to his lover as she eyed him up and down. "You can go now," she said to him, "your _boss_ and I have private business to discuss."

The young man turned to him in silent askance, and he let out a tired sigh, looking down on his still opened pants; his penis' blissful journey of discovering the wonders of his assistant young mouth would have to wait. For now.

Nodding his head and waving his hand, he released his assistant. His eyes following the young, tall frame as he stepped out of his small -and supposedly secret- flat, disappearing behind the door.

He turned back to her. "Well, _cus_," he said, not bothering on hiding his annoyance, "since you're here already, what can I do for you?"

She gave him a big fake smile, as if surprised at him asking her that. "Now that you mention it," she started to say, making herself comfortable in the single sofa right in front of him, "there is something you can help me out with."

He nodded again, letting out a sigh. "Who is it this time?" he asked, going straight to the point.

"Michiru Kaioh."

He raised his eyebrows at that, surprised.

He had heard of that girl before. Not only a talented violinist, she was also a promising artist as well, and the have-to-get-her main target of the old man who ran the gallery where he usually exhibit his own work.

It wasn't the first time Masuyo targeted some innocent girl, asking him to do the dirty work and find whatever dirty little secrets the girl may have. And they all had something to hide; he had learned that a long time ago. A dark past, a family history involving one big scandal or another, a tendency on sleeping around with as many men as crossed their path; there was always something, and he always found it.

But the Kaioh girl? From what he had heard of her, she was a nice, well-to-do girl with a very low profile -or else he would have heard of her in other circles and the gossip column of the newspapers. In truth, she sounded more like a boring prude than Masuyo's usual targets, and he couldn't help but wonder what could this girl have done to get on his cousin's bad side.

"Did she try to steal your boyfriend or something?" he asked, mockingly.

"Please, don't be ridiculous. As if anyone could ever steal anything from me," she said, flickering a lock of velvet black hair off her shoulder.

"Then why targeting her?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Black eyes narrowed at her, the poison and hatred dancing in there. "I don't like her," she stated, in a low, dangerous tone.

"I've noticed."

"Twice a week, she leaves campus and doesn't return until late in the afternoon," Masuyo provided.

He raised his eyebrows at that. "You think she's having an affair with someone?"

Masuyo shook her head. "No, I don't think so. She's too much of a boring loser for that," she stated.

"Have you consider _asking_ her where she goes to?" he mocked.

Again, she narrowed her eyes at him. "She's hiding something, and I want to know what that is. So find it," she ordered, standing up from the sofa and making her way to the door, ready to leave. But then she seemed to remember something and turned back to him. "Also, she's friend with this Tenoh girl."

Now he was really surprised at that. "Tenoh girl?" he asked. "What Tenoh girl?"

"Exactly," she said, nodding her head. "I want to know everything there is to know about her, too. Is that clear?"

He nodded his agreement, walking her up to the door, if only to make sure to lock it after she left.

"Good," she said, pleased with his answer. "As long as you're a good boy, uncle Katashi doesn't need to see this," she said, mockingly patting his cheek with one hand and waving her camera around with the other.

He growled under his breath, nodding his head all the same.

It was bad enough he was not a doctor or a lawyer. In his father's eyes, his choice of a career as a photographer was enough of a shame to the family name; he didn't need to find out his one and only son had no intention of ever marrying a woman, let alone being intimate with one. So yes, he would do the job and find out whatever these two girls had to hide; his secret depended on it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Discalimer: **Haruka and Michiru and all Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Everything else belongs to me. Please do not steal!

* * *

><p><strong>22<strong>

Her heels echoed against the pristine marble floor as she walked; the soft material of her short pleated skirt brushing against her thighs. Getting on one knee as she reached the dais, she raised one gloved hand up to her chest, right over her heart.

"My Queen," she said, bowing her head to the ethereal figure of the woman standing by the silver throne.

"Sailor Uranus," the woman called out, offering a small, loving smile that felt both natural and honest, as if the very nature of the woman in lavender was nothing but kindness and love. "You have reached the end of your training."

She looked up and into lavender eyes; a sense of pride spreading from her chest and through her body, knowing what an honor it was to be here at all, to hold the position that was now being offered to her.

"It is your duty to protect the Alliance and this sacred Palace from the threats of those with impure hearts and ill intentions," the Queen said. "You must guard the borders and make use of the powers now bestowed upon you."

She felt the power deep within her answering to the Queen's call, reaching out and spreading all through her body. A familiar, golden energy concentrated in her chest, down her arms and onto her gloved hands, making them glow; a strong wind creating itself around her.

"I present to you your Talisman," the Queen continued, extending her hands out, palms up, and producing a beautiful, double blade sword out of thin air. It vibrated with the same golden energy around herself, as if calling out to her. "This is the Space Sword, and it is now a part of you as you are a part of it," the Queen said, handing the item to her. "Use it wisely."

She looked up at the offered weapon, admiring how it caught the light of the room; its blade shining proudly and beautifully.

She stood up when the Queen gestured for her to do so, and accepted the offered sword. It felt strangely light, but she knew better than to be fooled by it, for it was a dangerous, powerful weapon.

With the sword in her right hand she guided it to her chest, vowing her head to the Queen once more. "I hereby vow to protect the Alliance and guard the borders with my own life, to remind loyal to the Moon and protect the wielder of the Ginzuishou until the end of times."

The Queen smiled. "I accept your vow, and bound you to it," she said, with that soft, loving smile never leaving pure, angelic like features. "Raise now, Sailor Uranus, Senshi of the Skies. Take your place as leader of the Guardians of the Outer Solar System and fulfill your destiny."

.-.

Green eyes snapped open and she blinked at the ceiling of her bedroom. The first question that popped into her head was, what the hell is the Ginzuishou?

She was sure she didn't understand half of it, but she knew, that was some serious vow. One which had survived through only God knew how long of a time, as it was obvious she was still bounded by it. But what exactly was this Alliance she had sworn loyalty to? Who were these Guardians of the Outer Solar System and what did this Queen mean by her being their leader? She didn't even know how to be this Sailor Uranus she was supposed to be in the first place!

One lousy leader she was turning out to be so far, that was for sure, not even knowing what it was exactly she was supposed to do, who was she supposed to protect and from what… She didn't know a thing, really.

But as sleep finally left her brain and more questions came to mind, she finally registered something else. Something cold, resting in between her closed fingers.

She blinked again, frowning now as she lifted her head off the pillows just enough to look at her right hand. And as she saw the metal catching the morning light coming from the opened window, for a moment she rationalized, this certainly qualified as the right moment to start freaking out.

So she did.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed; eyes going wide and opened as she jumped off the bed.

She regretted her actions immediately, clasping both hands over her mouth just to make sure no other sound that could alert anyone in the house would get past her lips.

"Oh, God…" she mumbled. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." she continued, now pacing around her bed; emerald eyes never leaving the object innocently laying there.

She wasn't one to freak out that easily. She prided herself of being strong and proud and tough, and normally, she was quite aloof and collected. She wasn't being any of those things right now, though. But, logically, and to her favor, who wouldn't freak out when waking up next to a freaking sword? One which she had -at the lack of a better, more reasonable explanation- magically dreamed into existence, to that.

It was a wonder she hadn't accidentally cut herself and bled to death in her sleep…

But as that one thought crossed her mind, somehow she knew the sword would never hurt her. How she knew that, or why on earth would she attribute a conscience of its own to the sword, she didn't know; she just knew it to be truth. Just like she knew she wasn't seeing things.

She had seriously considering the possibility of her losing her mind quite a couple of times in the past. Because, really, hearing voices in the wind? Having weird dreams taking place in outer space?

Hallucinating was, after all, the first sign of schizophrenia.

It was scary, the possibility of her own mind making it all up. But her speech and thinking had yet to become disorganized or even remotely incoherent, and she was sure someone would have brought it up if they had noticed something off about her. And though she was quite aware of how crazy it all sounded, she just knew she wasn't just imagining it all; she was not losing her mind.

And the proof of that, of her perfectly healthy state of mind, was now oh so innocently laying on her bed.

It was as beautiful as the one she had seen in her dream. In fact, she was positive it was the exact same one. How it had survived such unimaginable -and quite un-measurable- amount of time, she had no idea. Just like she had no idea how it had magically reappeared out if thin air and right into her hand in her sleep.

But it had, and there it was. The Space Sword, the Queen had called it.

She could feel that same energy from her dream now emanating from the sword, calling out to her. And as she gave in, reaching out, she felt it passing through her hand and up her arm, all the way to her chest with a warming, kind of tingling feeling spreading all through her body.

It was by no means as strong as it had felt in her dream, probably because she was not this Sailor Uranus character yet but just her plain old self. But she knew it was the exact same sword from her dream.

Oh yes. She was a simple, regular, everyday normal girl, with a magical, legendary sword.

"Holy shit," she whispered to herself, now fascinated as she contemplated the blade.

It felt incredibly light -weren't swords supposed to be heavy?-, just as it had felt in her dream. And as she studied the intricate pattern decorating the golden hilt, she couldn't help but notice how strangely familiar it felt, to be holding this sword. As if it completed her, somehow.

She frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. Sailor Uranus… She had heard of a Sailor Moon on the news before. So maybe she had something to do with all these?

She shook her head, discarding the thought as it came. She remembered the voices in the wind saying 'they' had a different mission, and though she didn't know much about anything quite yet, she just knew, Sailor Moon and the other Senshi she had heard of on the news had nothing to do with this.

It was putting two and two together, really. She was supposed to be this guardian of the Outer Solar System, and it was her duty to protect the Alliance -whatever that was… but she figured it was safe to assume she could translate it as earth, and all it inhabitants…- and its borders from outside threats. And if that was her mission, her responsibility, then that meant this Silence she was supposed to stop was some sort of alien evil force which shouldn't have come nowhere near earth in the first place if only destiny would have knocked on her door a bit earlier.

This was her fault, her mess, regardless of her being unaware of her own destiny and being the reincarnation of some apparently quite powerful warrior. She and this Neptune girl were the ones responsible, not Sailor Moon. That much she was sure of.

The fact that she didn't know this Neptune girl and had absolutely no clues as to how to find her in the first place was a completely different issue.

_Great_, she thought, letting out a frustrated sigh, _I'm supposed to fight green little dudes from outer space, with a _sword_…_

She purposely and consciously avoided acknowledging the fact that her enemies were bound to be more than just the ugly little monsters shown in movies. This was going to be much, much more dangerous than that, if the very fate of the entire world depended on her succeeding on her mission -something the voices had been crystal clear about.

She knew the weapon in her hand was more than just a simple sword. But as her cellphone came to life, letting her know someone had just texted her -probably Matsumoto and his control-freak tendencies making sure she didn't pick this particular morning to oversleep-, she realized she didn't have the time to figure out what the sword could do, or how to do it in the first place.

Today was a big day, and she needed a clear head. But that was just not going to happen now, considering the weapon she still held in her hand.

"Fuck," she muttered, wondering what was she supposed to do with it.

She had had it for less than five minutes and she already felt strangely attached to it. It was hard to explain, really, but all she knew was that she just didn't feel comfortable leaving it behind, even if she did have a habit on locking her bedroom when she wasn't there. But she couldn't exactly bring it with her, either; she could only guess what people would say when she showed up carrying such a thing…

Maybe she could somehow sneak it into her car and hide it there…

A bright light filled the room then, and she blinked a couple of times, shielding her eyes with her free hand. And then, as the light disappeared as soon as it came, so did the sword.

A second freak out moment took over her when, for the split of a second, she thought she had just lost the sword. But it died away as soon as she noticed a new -and yet very familiar- weight to her hip.

She blinked, looking down on herself. But when she didn't see anything, she turned on her heels, now facing the full length mirror on the wall and contemplating her own image in there.

Her hair was quite the monumental mess, as it usually was every morning. There was the white tank top she used to sleep, and the black and yellow polkadot cheekie panties she had gone to bed with last night. But there was no sword. And she would have seriously considered her own mind making the whole thing up, if it weren't for the fact that she could still feel it. It had somehow gone from her hand to her hip, and she could feel it there.

Hell, she could even feel the belt to which the sword was attached to, in sheath, hanging low on her hips.

_Interesting_.

And idea crossed her mind and, deciding to test it, she extended out her right hand, closing it in a fist and mentally summoning the sword.

"Holy…" she mumbled, giving a startled step backwards as the sword answered her call, reappearing in her hand.

She grinned. Well, that was just pretty damn cool.

It vibrated in her hand, sending that strangely familiar, warming energy through her body once more, and she had the inexplicable suspicion it was somehow talking to her. She could almost swear she could hear it asking if she was alright, if there was any danger around; its power already gathered at its blade, ready to attack any possible threats. As absolutely delusional as _that_ sounded.

She shook her head, blinking and clearing her head. Deciding to keep on testing her theory, she sent a mental message to the -quite possibly imagined- sword's question.

And just like that, the sword was gone. Back to the invisible belt.

She grinned again. So, maybe it was a bit crazy and kind of freaky, but damn! That was just so freaking cool!

Her cellphone coming to life again startled her, and she jumped in surprise. Turning on her heels, she reached for the device resting on her night table, turning the alarm she had set the night before off, and then fast scanning the text message.

'_Just making sure you're up. Hope you're ready,_' was the simple text Matsumoto had just sent her.

Her trademark smirk broke into her features. "You bet I am," she muttered to herself, making her way to the bathroom.

This invisible belt better be waterproof; she was not about to stop taking showers just because she had a magical sword attached to her hips…

.-.

She studied the image the mirror gave back to her and nodded her approval.

She wasn't quite sure of what the dressing code was for such events, since she had never been in one, but she was positive it called for an easy going outfit. And her plans for later on called for something comfortable as well.

She had put careful thought on where to take the blonde for their next date, and she was planning on doing it after the race. That was, if Haruka was up to it, of course; just because Michiru lost their silly little bet -by barely an inch, and only because she all but landed on the blonde, but still-, and regardless of the both of them agreeing to the terms, didn't necessary mean Haruka would agree to go into a second fake-date with her.

Silently, Michiru prayed she would. It didn't matter if it was all pretend, as long as it meant she got to spend time with the tall blonde.

Ten thousand excited little butterflies came to life in her stomach in anticipation, and she shook her head, checking her own image on the mirror once more. She needed to keep her head clear and focus on more simple matters and less blonde related issues.

Casual outfit. The off the shoulder, tunic length cashmere ivory sweater and pencil jean pants did the trick nicely. Black, double strap, 3 inches heeled suede booties covering her feet, and a simple, classic denim jacket just in case completed her outfit. Satisfied, she nodded her head at her own appearance and proceeded to arrange her hair into a curly mass of a bun when her dorm's door flung open.

"That stuff makes you fat," came Yoshi's firm, matter-of-fact statement as she walked in; one pretty redhead trailing right behind her.

"Oh, please!" the other exclaimed, waving a hand around and completely dismissing any true to the other's words. "I have a great ass. One small, harmless little piece of cake won't ruin it."

"You eat that stuff all the time," Yoshi accused. "It's a wonder you still _have_ said great ass."

The smile decorating Yoshi's face was both mocking and secretively approving of the aforementioned physical quality. Something, Michiru knew, she wouldn't have really noticed or pay much attention to if she hadn't walked in on them…

The past week had been more than just a little awkward on her part, and she had tried the best she could to avoid them both. But since they shared the room, she hadn't succeeded that much on her plan, and while she was able to succeed during the day, she was doomed to fail after curfew.

But, considering they had both been long gone when she woke up that morning, she had assumed they were off and wouldn't be coming back until Sunday, walking into their room just as curfew started, just like they always did on the weekends. Apparently, and judging by their training outfits, the violinist had been wrong in her assumptions.

"That's what I have you for," Sayuri retorted, arching a teasing eyebrow and then blowing a positively mocking kiss Yoshi's way.

Honey eyes rolled, before staring at Michiru with a defeated look. "I swear the only reason she comes running with me it's just so she can keep on eating all that junk," Yoshi complained.

As a member of the relay race team, it was popular knowledge Yoshi trained on a regular basis. And Michiru knew the redhead sometimes accompanied her on her morning jogs, though now that she knew what was really going on between the two, she couldn't help but wonder how much of actual running did their little morning activity involved…

She shook the thought away as soon as it came, deciding that, whatever her roommates did on their own free, private time, was none of her business.

"If you ever want her to do something and she says no," Yoshi continued, completely unaware of Michiru's thoughts, "just bribe her off with candy. Works like a charm."

A flying cushion made Sayuri's opinion on the comment perfectly clear. But as Yoshi dodged it, landing sprawled on her own bed and laughing out, the redhead smiled.

"I'm not that easily bought off," she defended herself, hands on her hips and slightly narrowing her eyes. "That's just what I like to make you think so that _you_ are the one spending all the money instead of me."

Yoshi frowned at that, obviously not entirely pleased at the thought. "What am I? Your sugar mamma?"

Sayuri smiled in satisfaction. "It kind of fits, don't you think?" she said, now turning to Michiru.

Technically, the term meant Yoshi bought more than just candy, while Sayuri offered something else in return. But keeping that comment to herself, not really wanting to bring it up or even think of what such kind of arrangements usually meant, the violinist just shook her shoulder, giggling lightly.

Regardless of the kind of -decisively private- relationship her roommates had, their bickering was still amusing.

"So what's with the downtown girl, slightly posh outfit?" Sayuri asked, entirely changing the subject and eying Michiru up and down.

"Slightly posh?" Michiru repeated, frowning as she looked down on herself; that was not what she was going for…

"Totally loving the boots," the redhead said as a way of answering, tilting her head to point at her designer boots. "What size are you? You think you could let me borrow them…"

"You going out?" Yoshi asked, interrupting Sayuri's little mumble talk.

"A friend of mine is racing today, so I'm going to the circuits," she answered, turning back around and to the mirror, inspecting herself out once more.

"And by racing you mean… what? Horses?" Yoshi asked, only half curious as she made her way to her own wardrobe, taking out clean towels and clothes.

"Cars," Michiru corrected.

When no other comment came from either of her roommates she frowned, looking up at them through the mirror. She caught them exchanging looks, Sayuri blinking in surprise as a frown broke on Yoshi's features, and she turned around to look at them.

"What?" she asked, not really understanding the sudden lack of an answer from them; they usually had something to say about any given matter, really.

"You have a friend who's a car racer," Yoshi said, in a tone that was more of a question than a statement.

"Yes," the violinist answered, nodding her head.

"And you're going to the circuits," Sayuri put in, in the same questioning tone.

Again, Michiru nodded, and it was then when a teasing, goofy smile broke on Yoshi's features.

"A friend friend, or a _friend_?" the black haired girl asked, repeating the same exact question she had asked not long ago. And when a completely unwelcomed, deep blush burned Michiru's cheeks, the honey color eyed girl squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. "Way to go, girl!"

Michiru's blush deepened at that. "We're just friends," she said, ignoring that little voice inside her that reminded her, she wanted much, much more than that…

"_Right_," Yoshi said, rolling her eyes. "A car racer… That is _so_ cool!"

"We really are just friends," Michiru insisted, trying to erase the blush off her cheeks.

"Oh, but we have faith in you," Sayuri stated, in such an approving tone, with an accomplice smile dancing in her lips, it only made Michiru blush even more.

Blinking her blush away, she lightly shook her head, causing a few lose strands to dance around her face in the process. "Would you like to come?" she asked, if only to move the subject of conversation away from her still very new, still quite fluttering emotions and feelings towards one particular car racer.

Yoshi's wide smile was enough of an answer. "Oh hell yeah!" the girl exclaimed, doing a small, excited little jump.

Sayuri frowned, tilting her head to a side. "But I thought we were going to that cute little shop…" the redhead complained, pouting cutely.

Honey colored eyes rolled. "I'm pretty sure it won't go out of business in a matter of hours, and therefor, it will still be there in the afternoon," Yoshi pointed out, not without letting out a frustrated, albeit defeated sigh. "You think you can go without your sugar fix until then?" she then asked, mockingly. "'Cause I would _seriously_ love to go to that race and check out Michiru's '_friend_'," she said, mockingly quoting the word friend with her fingers. "You know, to do something different and exciting, and maybe measure the lover potential in there…"

"We really are just friends…" the violinist insisted. But her words fell on deaf ears, and she was by now regretting ever saying anything at all.

"You're terrible," Sayuri accused, to which part of Yoshi's little speech, Michiru wasn't quite sure. Passing an arm around the violinist's shoulders, she smiled. "I'm dying for a shower right now, and little Miss Mean here smells…"

"Hey!"

"So we'll be ready in, let's say twenty minutes?" Sayuri continued, completely ignoring the other girl's complaint and offended face. "Lucky for you, daddy let me borrow the car for the weekend," she finished, doing a small little dance and disappearing behind the door; clean towels and clothes in hand, and probably on her way to the shower room.

Letting out a sigh and shaking her head, a bit amused despite all the teasing on her part, she turned around only to find Yoshi sniffling her own shirt.

"Guess I really do need that shower," the girl said, smiling sheepishly. "Be back in twenty!" she then announced, grabbing her own clean clothes. "Don't go without us!"

Michiru just stood there, gazing at the now closed door and wondering how was she supposed to keep her head off blonde related issues when those two kept on teasing her…


End file.
